


Promises To Keep (Miles To Go Before I Sleep)

by BigBadLittleRed



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety Attacks, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Stiles, Single Parent Derek, Socially Awkward Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4052089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBadLittleRed/pseuds/BigBadLittleRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is born with a best friend, Derek Hale, who's been there since the beginning. They're around each other almost every day, their personalities are basically made for each other. </p><p>Stiles has the best life in the world. </p><p>Until one day, Derek's house catches fire and most of his family is caught in it. Only his Uncle Peter, and his sister Laura escape. His sister is paralyzed from the waist down, and his uncle is a shell of a man. Before the funeral can even take place, Peter packs up his niece and nephew, and leaves without a goodbye. </p><p>It's been nine years, now Stiles lives in a huge house with a large family. He has a step-mother named Melissa, and a step-brother named Scott, along with three adopted siblings and a foster brother.</p><p>It's been nine years since he's seen his childhood friend, spotting him on a park bench and finding out he's a seventeen year old single dad is not how he pictured this going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye, I Guess...

**Author's Note:**

> ( The name of this story is pulled from a poem called 'Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening' written by Robert Frost. It sort of fits the mood of the story, and has a connection to the story itself. I do not own that poem, or the characters of Teen Wolf unfortunately. Please enjoy! )

Stiles has lived for a good seven years, he has a nice house, goes to a decent school, and has the bestest friend in the whole wide world. Everyone says that, but he knows it's the truth, because Derek Sebastian Hale is the greatest best friend anyone can ask for. He's tall, brave, and smart. He's almost two years older than Stiles, and he still loves to play with him. He helps Stiles build blanket forts, and can somehow talk Stiles' parents into letting him stay over at the Hale House on the weekends.

 

Man, is that place a wild ride. Stiles lives at home with a mom and a dad, but Derek has a huge house with a ginormous family. He has a mom, a dad, three sisters, two older and one younger, and two brothers, one older and the other younger. He's the best big brother to his younger siblings, Stiles has seen it in action. He's like a knight in shining armor, Stiles is pretty sure that one day, he's going to be a superhero.

 

Maybe they could be superhero's together!!!

 

"Come along, Batman!" Derek puffs out his chest, he's clad in his brand new Superman cape and t-shirt. Stiles is wearing his own Batman shirt and cape, along with the mask his father had gotten him for his birthday. Derek peeks around the corner, down the hallway towards the kitchen. He presses a finger to his lip as Stiles ambles up behind him, the younger nodding eagerly.

 

"I think there's a dastardly plot playing out in the kitchen." Superman hisses, Batman's eyes widen dramatically.

 

"Wait, time out, Der. What does das-stard-ly mean?" Stiles asks, clasping his cape in one hand as he fidgets.

 

Derek rolls his eyes, but then smiles gently. "It means evil." He explains with a shrug, and Stiles nods once more.

 

"Oh no!" He exclaims softly, falling back into character.

 

"Exactly, I think there are cookies being made without us." He murmurs.

 

"No!" Stiles gasps, Derek gives a grave nod.

 

"I believe it to be true." The older sighs, Stiles smiles a little. Derek was so good at pretend.

 

They creep into the kitchen, and Derek jumps out, Stiles right behind him.

 

"Halt, fiend! You're under arrest for not sharing your cookies!" He calls out, Stiles' mother turns around with an exaggerated gasp, she drops down to one knee with her hands clasped together.

 

"I'm so sorry, Superman. Please don't put me away, I have a husband and a son to take care of. I've got extra cookies to share, I swear." She tells them seriously, Derek gives her a considering look before smirking.

 

"It's okay Mama Stiles." He shrugs, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her cheek. Derek couldn't pronounce Stilinski, and when he was even younger, he couldn't pronounce Stiles' real name. So 'Stiles' had come about, and that branded Claudia 'Mama Stiles' and Stiles' father became 'Papa Stiles'. The two never minded, Derek was like a son to them, he never strayed from Stiles' side.

 

"So, I'm not under arrest?" She asks, Stiles shakes his head and moves forwards to hug her.

 

"No, mommy. I'd never let you get are-arrested." The boy assures with a giggle as he's lifted off the ground.

 

"Good, now how about some cookies?" She smiles, Derek sprints over to the kitchen table and pulls out one, two, three chairs. He scrambles into one, leaving the other two for Stiles and his mother.

 

"Thank you very much, Derek." Claudia tells him, setting Stiles in one seat and moving to grab a plate of cookies off the counter.

 

"You're very welcome." The boy replies with a dimpled grin, she places the cookies on the table and walks away to grab the milk.

 

They eat cookies and talk about weekend plans, Claudia wanted to take Stiles to the zoo, therefor, Derek would be going.

 

Suddenly the door opens and shuts, Stiles' father walks into the kitchen, looking distressed.

 

"John?" Claudia inquires, seeming nervous. She gets up and walks over to him, they have a quiet conversation to themselves as Stiles and Derek look on curiously. Both of them feeling a little nervous themselves when Claudia gasps softly and glances towards them.

 

"Derek, son." John walks over and sits across from him, Derek frowns.

 

"Did I do something wrong?" He asks quietly, the man shakes his head with a sigh.

 

"No.. There was a fire at your house." He explains quietly, Derek blinks at him in confusion.

 

"Did Papa burn something again?" He asks with a small giggle, Stiles smiling as well, but John doesn't smile.

 

"Your house caught fire, it was really bad, Derek." He tries to say, biting his lip.

 

"The house burned down?!" He asks with wide eyes, John wipes a hand over his face as Claudia comes to kneel in front of Derek.

 

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. But a lot of people got stuck inside, and they didn't make it out..." She tells him softly.

 

"W-What?" He looks back and forth between the adults.

 

"Laura and your Uncle Peter are at the hospital, but everyone else...." John's voice trails off.

 

"They got hurt?" Derek asks, fidgeting in his seat.

 

"They're in Heaven, darling." Claudia says finally after a bout of silence.

 

Derek shakes his head slowly, then more insistently.

 

"You're lying." He snaps, jumping off his chair. Claudia grabs his arm gently, but he yanks away.

 

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." She murmurs, and he shakes his head.

 

"I hate you. I hate you, I want to go home!" He shouts, tears welling in his eyes.

 

Stiles slides from his seat and walks up to him, attempting to give him a hug. Derek pushes him away, hands balled into fists.

 

"No, I hate you, I want to see my mom!" He snarls, tears dripping down his face. Then he drops to the floor on his bottom, sobbing for the parents he'd never see again.

 

~ - ~ - ~ - ~

 

Derek had spent the next two days at their house, hiding in the guest room. Sometimes he'd let Stiles come in and lay under the covers with him, just letting him be with him. Nothing he could say could make it better, so he just held Derek's hand and let him cry.

 

His Uncle Peter was released with a few burns, but his sister had jumped out a window to escape the flames. The impact damaged her spine, she'd never walk again. Stiles and his parents accompanied Derek to the hospital to visit Laura. She was one of Derek's older sisters, or really, the only one he had now. She was fourteen, she'd lost her family, and her ability to walk.

 

Stiles' world had been tossed upside down, but then again, so did everyone else's involved.

 

Derek and Laura were taken to Peter's house, one he used to share with his wife and daughter, who perished in the fire as well. They were supposed to meet at the funeral, but the three never showed up. When they visited Peter's house, they found it was completely empty. Peter had left, and taken Derek and Laura with him.

 

It was Stiles' turn to cry, he had lost his best friend. No consoling could fix that.

 

~ - ~ - ~ - ~

 

That summer, Stiles' mom changed. She was moody, tired, forgetful. His father was at work so much, Stiles wasn't sure if things were going the same way for him. Stiles' life fell apart before him, as he was faced with an entirely new environment. An absent father, an ill mother, and a flame in his stomach that grew with every problem that arose.

 

Stiles hated his life, he hated everything about it suddenly.

 

His mother's hands shook, she could barely write, and then she was taken to the doctor. Things were worse, how things could get any worse, well now he knew. His mother was diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia, he knew it was bad.

 

Bad when his mother stopped saying goodnight, or calling him sweet nicknames. His mom didn't really acknowledge him too much anymore, he learned to take care of himself. His mother was too sick, his father was too busy.

 

At age ten, Stiles came home to find the house quiet. He let himself in, ate a snack and then headed upstairs. He opens the door to his parents' room, sees his mother on the floor with an empty pill bottle next to her. Stiles screams so loud the neighbors called the police. And that's where they found him, holding his mother close and sobbing for her to come back.

 

Things were different, something died in Stiles that day. A piece of him he'd never get back, a darkness in his heart.

 

He doesn't cry at the funeral, or at seeing his mother's lifeless body in the casket. He just leans over, presses a kiss to her cold cheek, and whispers softly to her.

 

"I'll miss you."

 

He wasn't sure what died that night, his innocence probably. To know that a mother would commit suicide and know that her son would most likely find the body, that's not something you can unlearn.

 

Then again, he didn't quite blame her. Not at all. He wasn't too fond of living at the moment either.

 


	2. A Broken Rut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an almost normal day, Stiles isn't expecting everything to go so differently than usual.
> 
> Especially by running into his childhood best friend turned socially inept single dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( You guys responded so well, I decided to continue on into another chapter!! Yay! )

"Stiles!"

 

He glares down at his book, ignoring the voice, he just wants to finish this book, is that so much to ask? But then a Nerf dart hits him in the ear, he glares up at the boy standing in his doorway with a frightened look on his face.

 

"You're supposed to knock." He says, voice a growl, the boy sighs and rolls his eyes. He pulls the door closed and knocks at it, Stiles doesn't answer, simply looks down at his book again.

 

"What's the point of knocking if you aren't gonna answer?!" Liam calls, Stiles smirks to himself.

 

"Exactly, to knock is to ask permission in. I don't give you permission." He shakes his head, laying back on his bed and sighing. He listens to the seven year old kick his door before stomping down the hall.

 

There's a full five minutes of peace, glorious peace, and then Lydia opens the door. She closes the door behind her and locks it, he notices the books in her arms.

 

"I'm here for a truce and sanctuary." She tells him curtly, he nods and scoots over on his bed. The girl sits down next to him, opening a book and a notebook, pulling a pencil from behind her ear before scribbling down on the paper.

 

"What's going on?" He asks when reading the same sentence over and over again is getting annoying.

 

"Liam came storming into the room, all huffy, and decided to shoot Nerf darts at Erica and me." She tells him with a roll of her eyes.

 

"Did Erica declare war?" Liam screams somewhere down the hall, and that's answer enough. There's scuffling and shouting out the door, he can hear Erica and Scott, possibly Boyd.

 

"Miss the good old days when it was just you, me, and Scott?" Stiles asks her, she arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him.

 

"When was any day with the both of you a 'good ol' day'?" She huffs, he snorts.

 

"You've wounded me, madam. C'mon, you love us." He nudges her book with a knee, and in return, she shoves him off the bed with a squawk.

 

"Oh, mistake." Stiles scrambles to his feet, swings his closet door open and grabs down his Nerf machine gun alongside his army helmet.

 

"Stiles, don't you dare." She stands, backing away from him.

 

"BOYS AGAINST GIRLS!" He screams, firing off a few rounds, she screams and sprints out of the room. Stiles basically rolls out behind her, spotting Scott and Liam leaning out from Scott's room. Scott waves him over, he races over and ducks into the room.

 

"Sorry about earlier, bud." He mutters, ruffling Liam's hair, the boy sighs and pats his hip.

 

"S'fine, as long as you don't let me become a prisoner to Erica." He grins, Stiles smiles.

 

"Of course not, Catwoman is vicious." He gasps, and then the girl herself rolls into the room with duel Nerf pistols.

 

"HIT THE DECK!" He snatches Liam and they fall over the bed, hoisting their guns onto the comforter to shoot a few darts in the teen's direction.

 

"Run for your life, when I say." He tells the boy, who nods seriously. Stiles races over and hides behind a dresser, firing off a few darts before racing out and tackling Erica.

 

"RUN BOYS! SAVE YOURSELVES!" He shouts, attempting to pin the girl, who gives him a feral grin and begins to fight back as Scott and Liam leap over them and disappear down the stairs.

 

"ADMIT DEFEAT!" Stiles snarls, Erica somehow twists their legs and flips them over.

 

"Never, not even in your dreams." She winks at him, before pulling out a pair of toy handcuffs.

 

"Evil temptress, is this a seduction tactic?" He questions, Erica fakes a retching noise.

 

"You're disgusting." She gets up and hurries out of the room, he scrambles to his feet and races after her.

 

"LOOK OUT BELOW!" He flings himself over the railing of the stairs and lands in the foyer.

 

"Stiles." He spins around, finding his step-mother before him at the door, holding two grocery bags.

 

"Oh, hey mom." He mutters, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. She sighs and smiles at him in a familiar exasperated expression.

 

"Don't mean to be a buzzkill on your Nerf war, but the rest of the troops are getting the groceries.. Do me a favor and help them?" She asks, he nods.

 

"Of course." He walks outside to help the others.

 

"Give a man a warning, will ya?" He mutters to his siblings when he reaches the van, who laugh at him in chorus.

 

"I heard that leap, how's it feel to be a nine year old in a sixteen year old's body?" Lydia smirks, Stiles rolls his eyes and grabs two bags from the back seat.

 

"Traitor siblings, I thought we were supposed to be a team." He grumbles, walking inside towards the kitchen.

 

"But you said we could go to the park!" Liam is whining to Melissa as she puts things away, tugging on her arm slightly.

 

"I know, sweetheart. But I have an early shift tonight, and we could only stay a few minutes." She tells him, petting his hair, before glancing up.

 

"Oh no, no way." Stiles shakes his head, he can already hear the request.

 

"Ask Stiles." She says, Liam turns his big ol' puppy eyes his way.

 

"Please, Stiles? Please, please, please? With a cherry on top?" The boy grabs onto his legs and hugs at them.

 

"Someone has to go with me, I refuse to be alone in munchkin land." Stiles relents.

 

"I'll go ask!" Liam sprints upstairs like a rocket as Stiles leans against the counter.

 

"You're such a sweet big brother." Melissa tells him, patting his arm.

 

"A big brother that deserves a new tablet for his birthday." He tells her, she smiles and pats his head.

 

"We'll see." Which really means 'Good luck asking your dad for that.' Stiles groans while stomping up the stairs.

 

"Scott has homework, Erica has plans, Boyd is involved in those plans." Liam tells him when he reaches the top stair.

 

"Ask Lydia then." He demands, Liam frowns, fidgeting slightly.

 

"Are you still scared of her?" He sighs, the boy nods.

 

"Jeez, Liam. You've been here for almost two years, you gotta get used to her sometime." He mutters.

 

"But she's terrifying." The boy whines.

 

"Yeah, we all know. Which is why you always do what she says and keep her happy, because you don't want to get Nair in your shampoo." He pats the boy's head, taking his hand and leading him to the small loft upstairs. Lydia is working on something on the couch.

 

"I'll do your chores for two days if you come with me and Liam to the park." He says, sliding into the seat next to her and batting his eyelashes at her.

 

"A week." She says without looking up, Stiles gawks.

 

"Four days." He argues.

 

"Ten days."

 

"Six." Stiles snaps.

 

"Eight." She hums.

 

"Seven, that's final." Stiles agrees, Lydia smiles as she looks up at him.

 

"A week it is then." She grins, drops her book on the table and stands, walking off to get ready. Stiles watches her retreat, feeling that small ache in his head he gets after arguing with her.

 

"Dude.. I think she just totally owned you with her mind games." Liam mutters, Stiles nods.

 

"Which is why we don't screw with Lydia, lesson learned." He sighs, standing up.

 

"Yeah, definitely." The boy agrees.

 

-

 

They head to the park, it's filled with screaming kids of all ages, along with parents who are in one of two stages.

 

1\. Loving and adoring a young toddler or baby.

2\. Ready to commit suicide while attempting (and failing) to control an older child.

 

Stiles has been there, he really has. They fostered a pair of twins a few years before that were five, and Stiles nearly lost his mind. Ethan and Aiden were the reason Stiles hid in his room with Lydia for months until the twin terrors left. He kind of wants to weep over the memory of listening to the two boys fighting over toys. So much screaming.

 

Luckily, while Liam does have quite the temper, he's rather understanding that his adopted siblings have lives of their own.

 

Stiles walks Liam over to the swings, beginning to push him so he can get a good start. Lydia goes to find them a bench within sight, so they can keep an eye on him. He retreats to the bench and chats idly with Lydia, glancing over at their younger sibling every once in a while.

 

But then, he looks back and the boy is not on the swing. _He's not on the swing_. Stiles stands in a panic, hurrying over and finding Liam sitting across from a younger boy, playing in the sand. They're tucked just underneath the slide, the other boy can't be more than four.

 

"Hey there, who's this?" He asks, kneeling into the sand next to Liam.

 

"This is Isaac, he was playing alone so I thought I'd help him make a sand sculpture." Liam explains, the little boy looks up at him. He's darling, a mop of curly brown hair and bright blue eyes.

 

"Hi." He waves, the boy smiles shyly and waves back.

 

"Where's your mommy?" He peers around, Isaac's a little out of sight, they might be looking for him.

 

"My mommy's in Heaven with the angels." Stiles grimaces, he really needs to be more general in these questions.

 

"Who are you here with?" He asks instead, Isaac sits up on his knees, pointing to a bench just a little ways away. There's a teenager sitting there, hunched over a book and scribbling something onto some paper..

 

"That's your brother?" He questions, the boy giggles.

 

"No, silly. That's my papa!" He laughs, before standing up.

 

"You wanna meet him?" He takes Stiles' hand carefully, giving him a soulful look. Seriously this kid's eyes held the secrets to the universe.

 

"Um, sure." He agrees awkwardly, who's gonna say no to this tiny child? Not Stiles, that's who.

 

"You gots to be nice, papa gets real scared around people." He explains, tugging Stiles in the teenager's direction.

 

"Then maybe it's best I don't, I don't want to upset anyone." He mutters, unsure about what he's gotten himself into. But the boy just continues to pull at him until he gets up.

 

"No it's okay, he's just shy, like me but worser. We just moved here, he doesn't have no friends." The boy tells him, and then they're at the bench.

 

"Papa look! I made you a friend!" The boy grins, pulling himself onto the bench next to the teenager.

 

"What?" The teen looks at Isaac in confusion, then follows his gaze to Stiles' face. He looks familiar, really familiar....

 

"Oh." His cheeks turn a bright red, along with the tips of his ears.

 

Blushing by the tips of his ears...

 

"Derek?" He mutters, the guy's face blanches, turning from bright red to ghostly white in a second.

 

"Stiles.." He whispers, hands fidgeting with his pencil as he looks away for a moment.

 

"Papa, you know Stiles?!" Isaac squeaks, giving the both of them a blinding smile.

 

"Yeah, bud. We knew each other when we were little." He explains softly, running a hand over Isaac's wild curls.

 

"Before you left, or after?" The boy asks hesitantly, like it's a sore subject.

 

"Before." Derek says simply, before picking him up off the bench and setting him down.

 

"Go play, Papa's got to talk to Stiles." He tells the boy, who grasps his hand, eyes sorrowful and pleading.

 

"You'll be okay right?" He asks softly, Derek smiles gently.

 

"I'll be fine, off you go." He pats Isaac on the back and the boy toddles off.

 

Stiles remembers his Derek, brave, confident, superhero. This Derek is different, quiet, hesitant and apparently socially stunted.

 

He stares at Derek as the older boy fiddles with his books, closing them and arranging them on his lap. He clears his throat three separate times before even looking up at Stiles.

 

"Long time no see." His childhood best friend and role model mumbles, squirming in his seat and barely making eye contact. He adjusts his glasses to look up at Stiles, looking like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him.

 

This was not how he pictured this reunion going.


	3. Something Amiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a good talk with Derek, but then things go bad.
> 
> Something's wrong with this picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( I'm scared to wait to write and lose my inspiration, hope you don't mind such quick updates?? )

Derek doesn't offer Stiles a seat, but Stiles sits down next to him anyway, a good distance away from him. Apparently Derek had turned skittish and shy, he wasn't going to be one to pry. Instead, he takes a moment to look at the books Derek's holding. There's three of them, and a notebook. There's a small book, which is worn and well-cared for, a poetry book. Then there's a school textbook for Calculus, but the third one really catches his eye.

 

_Anxiety Disorders, Diagnosis and Self-Treatment_.

 

"Do you like poetry?" He opts for something more comfortable, he's not going to address something private. Not when he hasn't seen the guy in nine years, not when he looks ready to bolt, eyes concentrated on his son playing with Liam. Isaac keeps looking over, seeming almost worried. Something didn't seem right about it, it made an uneasy feeling turn in his gut.

 

"Yes." Derek's fingers are tapping against his poetry book, the leg the books aren't balanced on is bouncing up and down anxiously.

 

"Are you living around here?" He questions.

 

"Yes." Man, the guy wasn't even gonna give him an explanation.

 

"How long have you been back?" Stiles says softly.

 

"Ye- I mea- I um. About two weeks." He stammers, hand running through his hair with a sigh.

 

Stiles spots Lydia walking over, seeming curiously intrigued.

 

"I was wondering where you went to." The girl says to him, before observing Derek in scrutiny.

 

"Yeah, this is Derek. Remember I used to talk about him a lot?" He explains, Lydia's face lights up.

 

"Not superhero Derek Hale." She grins, Stiles groans.

 

"Superhero?" Derek murmurs, offering a wary glance to Stiles and back at Lydia.

 

"Oh yes, Stiles had quite the crush on you. He spent days going on about how brave and superhero-like you were." Lydia sits down on Derek's other side, not giving him too much personal space as Stiles did.

 

"I'm no superhero." Derek mumbles, staring down at his books.

 

"Well to Stiles you were." Lydia says, before reaching over hesitantly and pointing at the poetry book.

 

"Oh I love that one, the dark ones are the best." She tells him quietly, like it's a secret, Derek shrugs.

 

"Do you have a favorite?" Lydia asks, Derek nods. "Well, tell me! Don't make me sit in suspense!" She huffs, Stiles cannot believe he sees Derek's lips quirk up slightly.

 

"Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening." He says quietly, Lydia looks at Stiles. She glances down at the books and back up at him, like she's trying to tell him something. Oh, she saw the Anxiety Disorder book, clever and watchful as always.

 

"I like that one too, it's got a lot of symbolism." Stiles says, it was a poem he had read in class that year, in English during their Poetry Section.

 

"Yeah." Derek agrees with a nod.

 

Suddenly Isaac comes racing over, starts tugging on his father's hand.

 

"We have to go, Papa." Isaac explains, turning and sliding along the sand in an attempt to get him up.

 

"Why, buddy?" He asks, pulling him back and balancing him on the knee not stacked with books.

 

"Cause uh... Cause I feel sick." The boy tells him, before hiding his face against Derek's shoulder.

 

"If you have to go, then that's all right." Stiles tells him, Derek shakes his head and sets Isaac down.

 

"He's faking." The teen tells them, Isaac looks guilty.

 

"Looking for attention, sweetheart?" Lydia smiles at him, the boy cringes, Stiles feels Derek stiffen next to him.

 

"Papa doesn't like that word." He hisses, Derek is suddenly standing and grabbing Isaac by the arm, pulling him along as he briskly walks away.

 

"What word?" Lydia looks to Stiles in confusion, who watches Derek stumble over a root of a tree before straightening to lean down and scoop his son into his arms.

 

"Sweetheart, I think." Stiles murmurs, that nauseous feeling in his stomach returning.

 

-

 

That meeting left Stiles feeling all wrong, something eating away at him for days. At least, until he sees Derek again.

 

Stiles and Erica take Liam to a diner for lunch and ice cream one afternoon after school. The boy is trying to cling to Stiles' leg for some reason beyond his understanding, growling like he's trying to wrestle Stiles and Stiles isn't participating. Instead, he just picks the boy up and tucks him underneath his arm. Liam laughs and squirms, before settling with a huff.

 

They walk into the diner and Stiles sets Liam down. They slide into an empty booth, Erica is talking about a new movie coming out, and Liam keeps butting in about his video games. Then suddenly, someone clears their throat, and they look to the end of the booth.

 

Derek stands before them, cheeks and tips of his ears bright red as he shifts from one foot to another. He's wearing a uniform, a yellow shirt with black pants, like the rest of the workers.

 

"Derek? You work here?" Stiles asks, Derek nods.

 

"As Stiles said, I'm Derek, I'll be your waiter for today." Derek says simply, staring down at his notepad and scrabbling something down even though they haven't ordered anything yet.

 

" _The_ Derek?" Erica says just as Stiles asks "Where's Isaac?"

 

Derek sighs, glancing up at Stiles before jerking his head towards the counter across the room, where Isaac is sitting on a stool and coloring something.

 

"Pardon, you were Batman's best friend?" Erica questions, Derek doesn't even look at her.

 

"Yes, I was." He says, staring down at the table.

 

"A shy one, isn't he? Changed a lot since he left, huh?" Erica reaches out and touches the hand balanced on the table with teasing fingernails. Derek jerks it away like he's been burned, turning away and disappearing into the back.

 

Isaac suddenly appears in front of the booth.

 

"I thought you said you didn't want to upset no one?" The boy crosses his arms, looking thoroughly angry.

 

"It wasn't me, buddy, Erica did it." Stiles is guilty of tattling but he's not going to get those judgmental angel eyes when it's definitely not his fault.

 

"Sorry." Erica apologizes, looking like she's still trying to catch up with the situation.

 

"Well papa's trying to work.." The boy huffs, before Derek comes out of the back again. He picks Isaac up and brings him back to his barstool, they have a quiet conversation.

 

But Stiles can clearly hear Isaac say "I said it was bad, I said it before you started!" Derek runs a hand through his hair and murmurs something else before walking over to their table.

 

He's stiff as a board, pen clenched tight in his hand as he stares down at the table once more.

 

"What can I get you to drink?" He asks through clenched teeth.

 

"Derek, Erica didn't mean it." Stiles tells him quietly, Derek slams his hand down on the table with a resonating sound.

 

"Listen here, just fucking order something. I'm really not in the mood for small talk, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd just let it go!" He snaps.

 

"Hale!" The woman at the register scolds, Derek tenses and closes his eyes, sighing heavily.

 

"My apologies, that was very disrespectful." He mutters, leaning back and pulling his notepad back up to his face.

 

"I'll have a root beer." Liam starts hesitantly, Derek nods without expression, he scribbles something down.

 

"Coke." Stiles says, staring at Derek, who only nods and writes it down.

 

"Lemonade." Erica says, Derek turns to walk away, before looking back and- He pats Liam's head, looking actually apologetic.

 

"I really am sorry." He mutters, walking back into the kitchen.

 

In a few minutes, a waitress comes out and says something to Isaac, who grabs up his colors and coloring book before allowing himself to be helped off the stool. He disappears into the kitchen as well, that same waitress comes out with their drinks.

 

"I'm very sorry for your wait." She says with a bright smile.

 

"What happened to Derek?" Stiles questions, taking his drink.

 

"Derek's not willing to socialize with our customers, not too fit for the job." She mutters, shrugging.

 

"You fired him?" Stiles asks, feeling something heavy drop into his stomach, probably his heart.

 

"It was a trial run, he didn't prove himself to be waiter material. Can't have a guy escaping to the kitchen every five minutes to freak out because a girl flirted with him. I knew he was too shy for the job." She shakes her head with a sigh.

 

They eat their meal in silence, Liam doesn't even ask for ice cream afterwards.

 

 


	4. To Barrel Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek comes to school, Stiles wants him to be back in his life as soon as possible.

School is the same old boring stuff as usual, he pay attention enough to understand, but still hates his life while doing so. Except he's not alone, no sir. He's got his step-brother Scott, his adopted sister Lydia, adopted sister Erica, and his foster brother Boyd. Stiles and Scott are juniors, almost seventeen (which they love to say as their birthdays approach). Lydia is a junior as well but she refuses to be grouped with them in anything. Erica is a sophomore, and Boyd is a senior. Of course, Liam is still only seven, and in second grade.

 

So it's a normal day for the Stilinskis, or Stilinski-McCall in Scott's place.

 

Just a day of trying their best to pay attention without dying of complete boredom.

 

Then suddenly, during first hour (Spanish 2), the door opens. The principal walks in, holding the door open and muttering something to someone just outside the door.

 

"Ah, this must be our new student." Their teacher, Mr. Sutherland says with a small smile.

 

And there he is, Derek Hale, just steps into the room awkwardly. He's got a few books clutched to his chest, backpack on both shoulders. He looks, well, like a dork. With his black framed glasses, nervous expression, and the white button down covered by a plaid over shirt is not helping (Stiles knows from experience). He has on tight skinny jeans and black boots, but the look on his face was going to get him eaten alive.

 

"Welcome, Derek, correct?" Derek snaps his eyes over to the teacher, nodding hurriedly.

 

"All right then, find an empty seat, there's a few." Derek's eyes survey the room for a moment, before landing on Stiles, who smiles and waves. Derek visibly relaxes, almost tripping over himself to sit down in the chair behind Stiles.

 

"As you were." The principal leaves with a soft click of the door, Mr. Sutherland continues teaching. Stiles takes a moment to look back at Derek, smiling at him again.

 

"Dude, where's Isaac?" He asks softly.

 

"Pre-school, got him enrolled." He murmurs, moving his books around on his desk.

 

"Oh, that's good." He whispers, Derek nods.

 

"Mr. Stilinski I'd appreciate if you didn't taint the new student with your bad behavior. Mr. Hale, you're not off to a very good start are you?" Mr. Sutherland snaps his ruler against his desk with a scowl. Stiles smiles gently and shrugs, but offers a glance back to Derek, who has sank into his seat further and is staring at his desk with rapt attention. He's mouthing something to himself, he's not sure what it is, but it's obviously a calming tactic.

 

Stiles doesn't talk for the rest of the hour, and once the bell rings, Derek shoots from his seat and is one of the first out. He doesn't see Derek again until lunch.

 

He whistles at Derek when he spots him walking into the cafeteria, waving him over. Scott spots him and frowns.

 

"That's the guy in my computer class." He mutters, looking back at Stiles in confusion.

 

"That's Derek, like my childhood best friend Derek." He explains quietly as Derek starts walking towards him.

 

"I expected a leather jacket and swagger." Scott mumbles as Derek sits down hesitantly, Stiles kicks his step-brother in the shin.

 

"Derek, this is my step-brother, Scott. Scotty, this is Derek." Scott reaches across the table to shake his hand, but Derek is staring at Stiles in shock.

 

"Your parents got divorced?" He whispers, sounding a little heartbroken. Stiles feels his own chest tighten at the thought of his mother, he grimaces.

 

"My mom died when I was ten." He explains quietly, Derek looks like he's taking it as hard as Stiles did.

 

"I'm sorry." The teen mumbles, looking down at his paper bag lunch with sorrow.

 

"It's all right, big guy. I still miss her, but I got Scott, Scott's mom, my three adopted siblings and a foster brother to keep me company." He smiles, offering Scott a fist bump.

 

"That's a lot of people." Derek nods, just staring down at the table.

 

"If you don't mind me asking, what are Peter and Laura doing these days?" He questions, Derek tenses up, inhaling sharply like Stiles' words were a knife to his stomach.

 

"You don't have to tell me, we can change the subject." He mutters, placing a hesitant hand on Derek's shoulder and cringing when the older boy flinches slightly.

 

"I don't talk to Laura anymore." He whispers simply, before making his hands busy at opening his lunch bag.

 

"I'm sorry." Stiles says awkwardly.

 

"So am I." Derek mutters, Stiles doesn't bring up the fact that he didn't mention what happened to Peter.

 

-

 

As school ends, Stiles finds Derek and stops him in the hallway.

 

"Hey, man. When do you have to pick up Isaac?" He questions, Derek sighs.

 

"Right now." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder towards the door the teens are spilling out of.

 

"Well, you can just go pick him up and come back to my place if you're not busy." He explains, Derek runs a hand through his hair.

 

"I should be out looking for another job." He murmurs, Stiles sighs.

 

"You can't go one more day? Maybe Peter can pick up Isaac and you can drive over to my place instead." Derek leans against a locker with a groan, rubbing his hands over his face.

 

"First of all, my uncle isn't around. Second of all, I don't have a car, and if I don't hurry the staff is gonna be pissed that I'm late picking Isaac up." He tells Stiles. The younger processes for a moment, what did he mean Peter wasn't around?? What the hell happened? And if that was true then Derek was living alone with Isaac, trying to pay for wherever they're staying.

 

"Um, well how about I drive you to pick up Isaac? Then we can head back to my house, maybe you two could stay for dinner." He offers, Derek shakes his head.

 

"I'm not going to impose on your family." He argues, Stiles holds up a hand to silence him.

 

"I insist, my dad doesn't even know you're back. He'd be thrilled to see you again, and meet your kid." He smirks, the hallways are almost empty now.

 

"Well if I don't accept a ride, then I'm gonna be late, and I know you're not gonna let me escape once I'm in the car." Derek relents, Stiles fist pumps the air with a grin.

 

"All right, let's go."

 

-

 

When they arrive at the school Stiles parks in a parking space, there's a group of kids lined up against the outside wall with a teacher standing with them. Derek gets out of the car, walking over. Isaac runs out of line just as Derek reaches him, lifting him into the air and propping him onto his hip. Isaac's hands are flailing about as his little mouth moves rapidly, he's got on a cute little sweater and jeans, along with a small backpack that's also a teddy-bear.

 

The teacher walks over and touches Derek shoulder, the teen jerks away. Stiles holds his breath, watching the way he observes the woman with wariness as she speaks to him. He nods hesitantly, says something, then Isaac says something, and then they're walking away.

 

"Stiles!" Isaac crows when he spots the teen in the Jeep, Stiles waves.

 

"Shit." Derek says as he opens the back seat, Stiles looks back at him. "You don't have a car seat." He mutters, Stiles grins, he jumps out and moves to his back hatch, opening it to reveal an old car seat.

 

"This car used to be my step-mom's, and she left this old car-seat in here from when Liam was a little smaller." He explains, Derek settles Isaac on the backseat while he helps Stiles hook the thing together and get it in place.

 

"The teacher give you any trouble?" Stiles asks as they fiddle with it, trying to sound nonchalant. He knew something was up, nobody is that startled by touch without good reason.

 

"She touched Papa." Isaac's nose crinkles up, looking none too happy about it.

 

"It was just to get my attention. She wanted to make sure Isaac knew me." Derek grumbles, snapping the car seat into place. "No big deal." He mutters.

 

"Didn't look like nothing." Stiles murmurs, Derek looks up at him with this odd expression on his face, before he shakes his head and looks back to Isaac.

 

"Stiles invited us to dinner, sound good?" He questions, Isaac nods excitedly.

 

"Yeah!" He agrees, letting his father place him into the car seat and buckle him in.

 

They climb back into the front, start driving towards Stiles' place.

 

"Papa, can we spend the night?" Isaac asks, Derek sighs like he hates himself.

 

"No, Isaac."

 

The boy makes a noise like he's ready to argue, or cry, Stiles really wishes he could be anywhere else right now. "But our house is too big and scary."

 

"You'll get used to it." He says a little harshly, Isaac falls quiet.

 

"Where are you living, by the way?" Stiles asks after there's a long pause of silence.

 

"Peter's old place." He whispers so softly that he's almost just mouthing it. Stiles frowns, is that a secret? Is Isaac not supposed to know, he offers a confused expression, Derek just shakes his head and turns to look out the window.

 

When they pull up to the house, the other car is already in the driveway, which means the troops are all home. Scott drove his mother's van quite often, so when he did to get to school and back, he had to pick up and drop off the others as well.

 

"I don't know why I expected you to drive us to the old house." Derek murmurs, staring at the house with nostalgia written all over his face.

 

"We sold that after we got Lydia, a lot of sad memories, and not enough room." Stiles says, the silence is one he doesn't want to speak too loudly to break.

 

"A lot of good memories, too." Derek gets out and the quiet is gone, replaced by birds chirping and the wind blowing, Derek unstrapping Isaac from his car seat.

 

"Scott and Boyd will probably make dinner later, after all, they are the chefs of the house." Stiles tells them as they approach the front steps.

 

"Can I help?" Isaac asks excitedly, Stiles grins as he pulls his keys from his pocket and opens the door.

 

"You'll have to ask them, but I'm sure they won't mind." He holds the door open for the two of them and tilts his head up to look up at the stairs. "We have guests!" He calls out.

 

Suddenly, Scott, Erica, and Liam are leaning over the railing to look down (In Liam's case it's more like peering through the rails from his small stature).

 

"Derek and his son, Isaac are staying over for dinner. That cool Scotty?" He questions, Scott smiles brightly and nods.

 

"We'll set out two more placemats, speaking of which. Boyd! We got a dinner to start!" He calls out down the hall, the young man comes walking down the hall and heads down the stairs with Scott. Boyd is a quiet guy, but very intelligent and a completely friendly dude.

 

Scott stops in front of Derek, Boyd standing next to him.

 

"Very nice to meet you, little man. My name's Scott, this is Boyd." Scott offers his hand to Isaac, who smiles shyly and offers his small chubby hand in return.

 

"Tell them your name, bud." Derek presses a kiss to Isaac's temple, who giggles and turns his head to kiss Derek's cheek in return.

 

"Isaac." The boy says dutifully, and then he looks to Boyd with a slight wariness.

 

"Don't worry about Boyd, he's a big ol' teddy bear." Stiles tells him with a wave of his arm.

 

"Want to help with dinner?" Boyd questions, Isaac nods eagerly, holding his hands out. Boyd takes Isaac from Derek's arms, who still looks a little hesitant.

 

"Just listen to Scott and Boyd, buddy." He says quietly, Isaac nods with a grin.

 

"Deep breaths Papa, you're okay." The boy gives him two thumbs up and a toothy grin, such a cute kid except for the fact that he sounds like a tiny therapist saying stuff like that.

 

"C'mon, you've met Scott and Boyd, and Lydia, along with Erica and Liam. But you have yet to meet Tweets." He explains, gesturing Derek up the stairs.

 

"You have a bird?" Derek asks with a snort, Stiles shakes his head.

 

"You'd think that, everyone does. Tweets is a cat, when she was little she made these little noises that sounded like a bird. So Scott and I named her Tweets." He explains as they reach the top stair.

 

"It's a stupid name, and a stupid cat." Lydia calls from the loft area.

 

"You're just upset that Tweets doesn't like you." Stiles snaps back, before leading Derek down the opposite way of the hall while whistling.

 

"Tweets? Tweeters? You in here kitty?" He calls as he enters his room, turning to leave when he finds Derek observing his cork board, which is covered with family photos. A lot of them are from recent things, like at a water park with Scott and Liam, or a group selfie of the family in a restaurant. But he knows what Derek's looking at, there are some older pictures near the top left corner, some of the first he placed on the board.

 

One of them is himself and Derek, just after Derek had gotten his Superman cape and shirt, just a few days before the fire. Derek has an arm wrapped around Stiles' neck, they're both grinning ear to ear for the camera, dressed in their superhero apparel.

 

Another is the Christmas before the fire, Derek's got a Santa hat on and is dressed in candy-cane pajamas.. Derek's older brother Jonathan is holding Derek under the arms in one arm, dangling against his chest with a grin. Stiles himself is wearing an elf hat with ears attached, he's got a Christmas sweater on as his candy-cane covered socked feet dangle over Jonathan's shoulders from where he sits behind his head.

 

There's even one where Derek and Stiles are sprawled over each other, tangled in blankets on the couch after a sleepover. Stiles is snuggled up against Derek's side, who has an arm wrapped around Stiles' shoulders.

 

"I forgot I looked like that." Derek murmurs, leaning against his desk with a heavy sigh.

 

"That's what I remembered you as for years." Stiles laughs quietly, sitting down on his bed.

 

"Jonathan had just gotten his braces off that summer... He was so happy, smiled so much more." The teen says, adjusting his glasses.

 

"Remember what I got you that Christmas?" Stiles asks softly, Derek turns back to him with a smile.

 

"Two action figures, one Batman, one Superman. So you could have one too." His laugh is slightly waterlogged. They're both quiet, they can hear the TV playing in the loft, the clink of pots and pans downstairs.

 

"I missed you, and when Mom died, I only missed you more. Because I didn't want anyone to tell me it was okay, I wanted someone to sit with me and be brutally honest like you were. It wasn't okay, it would always hurt to think about her, but eventually it would be better." Stiles tells him, Derek turns to look at him, walking over and sitting down on the bed next to him.

 

"I missed you too. But when I was eleven, I wouldn't have said that... I changed after I left, and not for the better." Derek explains quietly, Stiles smiles through the tears.

 

"So did I. A bully, a kid that picked fights and hated his father." He says, Derek nods.

 

"I.. Some dark stuff went on after I left.. I ran away three times, and I tried to kill myself twice." He explains weakly.

 

"Jesus, Der. Did you ever get sent somewhere?" Stiles questions, Derek shakes his head.

 

"He covered it up." Stiles' mind reels, he who? Peter? Peter covered up the fact that his barely pubescent nephew was trying to kill himself?

 

"Peter?" And there's that sharp inhale again, like the name just knocks the wind out of him. Derek looks down at his hands, which shake and tremble before him.

 

"I'd- uh... I-I'd like to t-talk about something else... Before I have a major freak out in your bedroom." He whispers, taking in a few deep breaths as he rubs his hands against his jeans a few times..

 

"Yeah, of course... Sorry." He wants so desperately to do something, offer some comfort, but Derek freaks out so badly about touching, he's helpless.

 

"I didn't want to leave. I actually begged him to let you guys adopt me." Derek offers after a moment.

 

"I wish we could have, instead, we adopted Lydia, and she plays evil mind games that leave you with headaches." He jokes, Derek smiles softly.

 

The door downstairs opens and shuts, followed by Stiles' father calling out his arrival.

 

"Dad's home, prepare yourself for a nice big hug." He grins, standing up.

 

"Okay." Derek mumbles, fiddling with his glasses and his clothes.

 

They start heading down the stairs, finding the Sheriff in the kitchen talking to Isaac who was sitting at the table.

 

"Dad, I see you've met Isaac." Stiles says, John doesn't turn around, instead he nods when Isaac tells him something about dinosaurs, smiling brightly.

 

"Who does Isaac belong to exactly?" He questions, turning his head, eyes going wide when he spots the two of them standing before him.

 

"Derek?" He says in disbelief, and man, he recognized the kid quicker than Stiles did.

 

"Been a while, Papa Stilinski." Derek smiles shyly, before he's suddenly engulfed in a huge hug. His feet are almost off the ground, squeezed tight in a dad embrace of the century. But Derek's grinning ear to ear, hugging right back.

 

"Jeez, kid, I've been worried about you." John says when he leans back.

 

"I'm just fine, sir." He smiles, John claps him on the shoulder, Derek barely even flinches.

 

"So Isaac is your..." His voice trails off, Derek walks over and picks the boy up from his seat, hitching him onto his hip and allowing the boy rest his head against his shoulder.

 

"My son." John looks like he might just keel over, but then he sort of lightens up a bit, like he's way too giddy to be a concerned parent at the moment.

 

"Okay then, you're joining us for dinner aren't you?" He asks, Scott walks around the counter and claps John on the back.

 

"Way ahead of you, pops." He grins, John rolls his eyes.

 

Stiles smiles as Isaac explains to his father about helping Boyd and Scott cook, bright eyed and enthusiastic. But there's this wide grin on Derek's face, one Stiles hasn't seen in years. A face of true happiness and content, and Stiles feels his stomach flutter with it.

 

Derek's stupid glasses and his slightly messy short hair, the bright grin that's just heart melting...

 

And maybe...

 

Stiles is sort of falling in love all over again.

 

Just like all those years before. Except now, instead of admiring a brave and loyal little boy, he's admiring a single father who's been through hell and still going.

 

There's this feeling he gets, one that he's really almost completely forgotten about. That feeling he always got when he was impressed with what Derek said or did. The way Derek acted, or smiled, or did anything Stiles even remotely enjoyed. He remembers thinking how cool it would be to be married to Derek, play video games all the time, sleep in the same bed all cuddled up together.

 

To his own horror, he finds that the feeling is still there. That airy feeling in his chest like Derek was breathing life into him after he'd been dead for millennium, awaiting to be brought back to life by a noble prince. God, he's such a sap it's disgusting. Derek has other things to worry about, like providing for himself and his kid....

 

But Stiles really wants to help, he wants to be there to pick Derek up after work... To kiss him goodbye, to watch Isaac for him when he can't... He doesn't see him for nine years and he's _still_ completely gone on the guy. Terrible, just awful..

 

When Lydia appears at the bottom of the stairs in the middle of the chatting, she looks to Stiles, to Derek, then back to Stiles. She smiles like she knows his secret, hell, she probably does. Too smart for her own good really, but then she smacks him on the arm and leans forward.

 

"Take it slow, I'm sure you can win him over." She murmurs, Stiles' cheeks heat up.

 

He moves the thoughts from his mind when he hears his step-mother get home, shoving his hands in his pockets and hoping those butterflies drown in his stomach acid.

 

Derek doesn't want to flirt, he wants to get a job and take care of his kid.

 

"Okay, I'll set the table." He volunteers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Long chapter huh? Wow, Stiles is already falling head over heels... This was a pretty good and happy ending to a chapter, that won't be the case all the time.. Just be warned, angst ahead. )


	5. An Awkward Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward dinner conversation and a detention slip gone horribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( There's a small reference to the possibility of Rape/Non-Con abuse, so trigger warning! )

When dinner is ready, they all sit down together in the dining room to eat. Melissa and John at each end of the table, Stiles sat on one side, closer to his father, Derek and Isaac next to him consecutively, Boyd is next to Isaac, and Scott is sitting just to his right. Lydia is across from Stiles, then Liam and Erica, and then there's an empty seat just to Erica's left close to Melissa.

 

They have an old booster seat from before Liam's growth spurt sometime earlier that year before, so they use it for Isaac. They begin eating, Derek is watching Isaac as he eats as carefully as he can (which is still pretty messy). He'll reach over once in a while to wipe Isaac's face or his hands. He's attentive, watchful, as any parent would be.

 

"So Derek, it's been nine years. Where did you get off to?" John asks, putting his fork in his mouth as punctuation.

 

"Oregon from ages eight to eleven, Colorado until I was twelve, then there was New York until I was sixteen." He explains quietly, John makes a soft appreciative noise.

 

"Across the country, what brings you back here?" He questions, Derek twirls his plate in his pasta and shrugs.

 

"I found out that my Uncle never sold his house, and I needed a place to stay. Mortgage was paid and everything so." He mutters.

 

"How are Peter and Laura by the way?" John is looking down at his plate as he asks, but Stiles watches Derek pale and hunch over slightly. Isaac is stalling in his eating, fork empty as it balances in his hand, staring at his father with worried blue eyes.

 

"I don't know." Derek says, voice a little weak.

 

"What do you mean son?" John looks up with a frown, Derek straightens slightly and clears his throat.

 

"I haven't talked to either of them since last year, sir." He says a little more confidently.

 

"You had a falling out then?" Derek nods hurriedly, Stiles is holding his breath, hoping his father doesn't tip Derek over the edge.

 

"You said you're staying at Peter's house, all by yourself with Isaac? You're only what, seventeen now?" Derek's stilled, and Isaac's eyes are wide and confused.

 

"Peter's house?" His voice says softly, Derek's eyes squeeze shut and bites his lip so hard Stiles thinks it might bleed.

 

"Peter, Derek's uncle, Isaac." John repeats, sounding a little confused.

 

"He... He's wrong, right Papa? We're not staying at Peter's house, we're not... Right?" His eyebrows dip down, tiny lips pursing into a frown.

 

"I didn't tell Isaac that." Derek murmurs, and Isaac drops his fork on the plate he's eating from.

 

"You're lying!" He shouts, suddenly angry, Derek winces.

 

"I didn't mean to cause a problem." John mutters as Isaac scrambles from his seat and takes off towards the front door.

 

"Isaac! Get back here!" Derek gets up, storming towards the foyer.

 

"I don't wanna be there! We have to move somewhere else!" Isaac demands as Stiles gets up to follow.

 

Derek scoops the boy up, holds him as he struggles.

 

"You lied to me!" The little boy sniffs, Derek nods.

 

"We didn't have anywhere else to go." He says softly as Stiles approaches next to the doorway.

 

"We can stay somewhere else, anywhere." The boy begs, grabs Derek's face with tears in his eyes.

 

"We don't have the money, bud..." His father whispers.

 

"We can't stay, he hurt you! How can you stay?" Isaac whimpers, Stiles hides behind the frame, listening carefully.

 

"Because you come first, always. I can deal with being there." He assures, Isaac shakes his head.

 

"Did he hurt you there too?" The boy asks, Derek gives a soft sigh.

 

"We didn't stay very long, only two nights." He says.

 

"But did he hurt you there?" Isaac repeats.

 

"Yes." Stiles' head spins, he can't believe they let Derek get taken away by an abusive man.. For years... Causing him to run away, attempt suicide even.

 

"But I'm strong, and so are you. So we're gonna tough it out, yeah?" Derek says, Stiles can hear the grin in his voice.

 

"Okay.."

 

Stiles races back to the dining room before they can see him, sitting down and offering his family a shake of his head when they give him a questioning look. Derek walks back in, holding Isaac, the older clears his throat and offers a small smile.

 

"My apologies, Isaac isn't too fond of my uncle.. Neither am I." Derek says very pointedly, before sitting down again and getting his son situated.

 

John doesn't bring it up again, but they do talk about Derek getting a job, then they move onto other regular stuff. After dinner, Derek and Isaac say goodnight and Stiles drives them home. The house is decent from the outside, although the grass is overgrown. It's dark, and looks lonely.. But Derek offers him a smile before walking up the driveway and unlocking the door, himself and Isaac waving to Stiles before closing the door.

 

Stiles doesn't get much sleep that night, sits up thinking about Isaac's words.

 

_"We can't stay, he hurt you! How can you stay?"_

 

His heart aches for Derek, having to stay in a house where his lifelong abuse began. Then his thoughts drift.

 

Hurt, he hurt Derek. That's all Isaac said.

 

But was it hurt like hitting, or something else?

 

He remembers the way Derek flinches away from any touch at all. That could be ingrained into him, fearing he's going to be hit. Or it could be something even worse. He feels sick just thinking about it. But that doesn't explain fearing words like 'sweetheart', which just cracks open another bowl of worms. He was still wondering how Derek had sex while he was so flinch and untrusting. God, there were so many questions to be answered. Yet at the same time, he feared the answers.

 

-

 

The next day comes around, Stiles is tired as hell and a little grumpy. His father tries to pry on him in the morning, but Stiles just shrugs him off. He gets to school, and just to make his day a little worse, his teacher Mr. Sutherland is in a sour mood. Derek isn't in class, which makes him more worried than anything. It's about twenty minutes into class, when Mr. Sutherland is yelling at a student for passing notes, when Derek walks in. The teen freezes when everyone looks at him, he's a little out of breath, backpack on one shoulder and books in hand..

 

"Well, well, Mr. Hale. I'd love to hear your excuse." Their teacher says, and Derek runs a hand through his already messy hair.

 

"I overslept." He says quietly, Mr. Sutherland rolls his eyes.

 

"Do you own an alarm clock Mr. Hale?" He asks, Derek shakes his head. "A phone?" He gets a nod, an unsure pause, then a shake. "Which is it Mr. Hale? Do you have a cell phone or not?"

 

"I have a home phone, not a cell phone." Derek answers hesitantly.

 

"I'd suggest getting an alarm clock at least, Mr. Hale. Have your parents sign this detention slip." He rips a slip from a pad, and Derek makes a soft disagreeing noise.

 

"What?" Mr. Sutherland questions.

 

"I can't do it." He whispers, holding out the slip.

 

"What? Too cool for detention?" Mr. Sutherland laughs bitterly.

 

"Well, no.. But my parents are dead, and I have to pick my son up after school."

 

Silence, dead silence.

 

"That doesn't excuse you from detention, Hale. Have your guardian sign the slip, and have them pick up your kid. You have detention tomorrow"

 

"I'm emancipated." Some of the kids are snickering, Stiles is frozen in horror because Derek looks genuinely sorry to have to put the guy out.

 

"Listen here, Mr. Hale. You might think you're better than the rest of us, because of your circumstances. That you're an adult, but truthfully, you're just a child who's made some serious mistakes."

 

"My son is not a mistake." It's quiet, Derek's eyes are almost angry, even though his body language is screaming that he wants to hide. Like a dog who's threatened, except Stiles knows that Derek won't bite.

 

"Arguing in your position in not a good choice, son." Mr. Sutherland explains, before stepping forward.

 

"I can't serve detention in the afternoon, maybe on the weekend if I can get someone to watch my kid." Derek says gently, eyes darting around like he's looking for an escape.

 

"We are not going to bend the rules for you!" The man snaps, voice a little too loud, Derek flinches as the man addresses the class. "You all think that it's cute, to try and argue with a teacher.. Well let me teach you differently, we're going to the principal's office!" And then he grabs Derek's shoulder, the teen stiffens. Stiles can't believe it, he cannot...

 

Because the crotch of Derek's jeans have darkened and piss is dripping from his pants leg and onto the floor. Sutherland scared him so bad that he pissed himself. Derek's breath is stuttering loudly, like he's suffocating. His eyes wide in horror, Stiles probably looks the same way.

 

And then Sutherland lets him go, looking shocked. Derek turns around, yanks the door open and runs out.

 

"I hope someone was secretly filming that, or at least plans to testify on Derek's behalf." Stiles says suddenly, standing up.

 

He glares at Sutherland as he slings his bag over his shoulder. "I'm going to see to it that you get fired for this. Learn how to read body language, asshat!" He snaps at Sutherland, before rushing out of the classroom.

 

He sees Derek all the way down the hall, pushing the front doors open.

 

"Derek! Derek wait!" He calls out, sprinting after him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Well then, things aren't going too well are they? Hope you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! )


	6. Make It All Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is involved now, he's not just going to walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Another update is here! Yay! Sadness and angst galore! )

Derek is a really fast runner, seriously, by the time Stiles has reached the front doors Derek is gone. He stops just outside of the doors, eyes darting around for any sign of the teen. Then he hears footsteps echoing through the parking lot over on the left, just around the corner. He holds his breath and hopes it's Derek as he races over.

 

He spots Derek sprinting through a row of cars, before he stumbles and disappears out of sight, hidden by the cars. He hears him hit the ground, cry out, Stiles weaves his way through the cars and finds Derek sitting on the ground. He looks so pathetic, no offense to him of course, he just makes Stiles' heart hurt at the sight of him. His jeans are torn at the knees (which they weren't before) and there are scrapes on the revealed skin, probably dirty with asphalt and stinging.

 

Derek's leaning back against a bumper, arms tucked against his stomach with his knees bent upwards slightly. The older boy's head is settled against his thighs, his breathing is soft little gasps and choking noises followed by quiet hiccups. Stiles kneels down in front of him, hesitant and wary.

 

"Derek?" He murmurs, reaching out a gentle hand, letting it hover over Derek's head. The other doesn't answer him, Stiles isn't even sure if he's really here at the moment. He can recognize PTSD easily, after his mother died, Stiles fell to pieces and was diagnosed with it himself. He's not familiar with Derek's trauma though, tries to think back to his hours of researching as a young teen on his disorder.

 

There's no way of knowing what this could be, a fear induced anxiety attack, a flashback, both? God, he was just diving into something he knew absolutely nothing about.

 

"Derek, hey, listen to me." He says a little louder. "Listen to my voice. You're right here with me, okay? In the parking lot, and it's hot as hell outside, can you feel the sun on your skin?" He's not sure where he's going with this, but it's a start.

 

Derek's gasping eases, and he looks over his knees with a tear stained face and watery eyes, hiccupping softly.

 

"Hey there, you know where you are?" He questions, Derek's eyes dart around for a moment, causing more tears to drip down his face in the process. He gives a jerky nod, sniffling and coughing a little.

 

Where are his glasses? He looks around, standing up and turning in a circle. Then he spots them on the pavement, walking over and picking them up. Luckily, they're not cracked, Stiles hooks them to the collar of his shirt for safekeeping until later. He returns to his spot in front of Derek, who hasn't moved at all.

 

"I'm not gonna touch you if you don't want me to, but I really think we should get out of the sun. Like I said earlier, it's hot out here, and you're not in the best condition at the moment." He explains, voice calm, words clear. "So do you think we could get up and maybe I could drive us back to my place?" He questions, Derek sniffs again, blinks his eyes a few times and more tears fall, some clinging to his eyelashes.

 

He's quiet, staring at Stiles, who isn't sure if he's gonna have to repeat himself or not. But then Derek gives a hesitant nod, Stiles smiles brightly.

 

"Need help up?" He asks, the older shakes his head and uncurls his arms from his stomach. He grabs onto the bumper of the car and lifts himself to his feet, wiping at his face messily. Stiles' hand hovers over his arm, ready to steady him if need be.

 

"You gonna be okay?" He questions, Derek nods silently, rubbing at his eye with his hand before wiping his sleeve under his nose like a child. Stiles walks with him, he's a little slow, wobbly, but manages to get to the car. Stiles opens the door for him and he scrambles up into his seat so Stiles can shut it once again. When Stiles comes around to his own seat, he buckles himself in and starts the engine, before looking over at his friend.

 

He's slumped in his seat, leaned against the door with his arms crossed, his eyes are red and the skin around them is rubbed a pinkish color. Stiles wants nothing more than to lean over and hug the poor guy, but he restrains himself for Derek's sake. Instead, he clears his throat, Derek turns his head a little to glance at him before looking away once more.

 

"Seatbelt, big guy." He says quietly, Derek nods and grabs his belt, pulls it over himself and clicks it into place. The drive back is quiet, well for a bit, a few minutes before they reach the house, Derek suddenly started freaking out and he had to pull over. Just started hyperventilating and crying all over again until Stiles talked him down from it.

 

When they get to the house, Derek looks wrecked. His hair is mangled and standing up, eyes red and slightly swollen with his cheeks red and splotchy. His jeans are torn and probably smell like piss. His shirt is wrinkled and probably covered with snot, he just looks really young with this submissive posture.

 

Stiles wants to wrap him in a blanket and lock him away from the world for a while, and that's what he's gonna do.

 

The house is empty, everyone at school and the adults at work. He walks up the stairs, looking back every few seconds to make sure Derek is following. He leads them into his room, which he has all to himself gloriously. They have two bedrooms downstairs, one for guests, another for their parents. Then they have upstairs, where they have Stiles' room, Lydia and Erica's room, Liam's room (which used to be the second guest bedroom), and then Scott and Boyd's shared bedroom. Originally, Melissa and John wanted Scott and Stiles to share a room... But they stayed up way too late talking to each other, and Boyd didn't mind, so they were separated.

 

So he turns to Derek, who's standing before him looking like hell. He sighs, thinking for a moment.

 

"Okay, you're going to need to get into some different clothes. I have some pajama bottoms and a big sweatshirt you can use." He explains, Derek doesn't look too happy about the thought of taking his clothes off. He shakes his head, hugging his arms to himself and ducking his head.

 

"Please? You can go take a nice hot shower, and I'll leave the clothes for you. You can come back up here and sleep until it's time to go get Isaac." He offers, Derek looks a little more accepting, nodding slowly.

 

"Okay, bathroom is all the way at the end of the hall on the left." He explains, Derek turns to walk out the door. "Leave the door unlocked please, I'll leave the clothes on the counter." He calls as he disappears into his closet to hunt down his most comfortable pajama bottoms and the really soft sweatshirt he loves. Once he's found them, he waits a moment to fix up the bed before heading down the hall.

 

The shower is running, so he opens the door a bit to drop the clothes down, but he pauses. Derek's sitting on the toilet, his shirt clenched in his hands as his shoulders shake with silent sobs. He opens the door a little more, Derek spots him. He sets the clothes on the counter, stepping inside and kneeling down. He gently cups his hand around Derek's hand, stroking his thumb against it gently.

 

He leans up and uses his free hand to wipe away a few tears, Derek's looking at him with a mottle of emotions in his watery eyes. He lets his hand rest against Derek's cheek, leaning forward and putting their foreheads together.

 

"You're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you." He murmurs, Derek frowns slightly, like he wants to say something but can't think of the words.

 

"Get cleaned up, bed's all made up." He says, reaching up to run his hand over Derek's hair carefully. Then he slips away, stands up and leaves, closing the door behind him before leaning against it with a heavy sigh.

 

"Kiss him later, Stilinski." He murmurs to himself, slinking back to his room to get on his computer.

 

In a few minutes, he hears the shower cut off and then Derek shuffles back into his room. Stiles looks back at him, smiling kindly before gesturing to the bed.

 

"Make yourself at home, man." Trying not to stare as Derek inches towards the bed before crawling in under the covers. His head hits the pillow and he turns over onto his side, faced away from Stiles. There's silence for a moment, and Stiles turns back to his computer. He glances back again when he hears movement, finding Derek facing him now, staring at him with an unsure look on his face.

 

Then he speaks, forces those words out he couldn't find earlier.

 

"Thank you." They're soft and gracious, filled with exhaustion and lingering pain. So much said with two little words, Stiles nods.

 

"Any time, Derek."

 

The older boy's eyes slip closed, and Stiles is positive he's fast asleep within seconds.

 


	7. An Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a nap (Derek), and some research (Stiles), they head to pick up Isaac from school before heading home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( I was gonna finish this last night, but I got really sick and went to bed early.. Sorry about the delay! )

Stiles has been scrolling through hundreds of sites for PTSD and anxiety attacks, trauma victims. Anything that he even remotely suspects from Derek, he looks it up, reads about it in detail. The hours blur together in a whir of information, before he knows it, it's half past two. Thirty minutes until they had to pick up Isaac. Stiles had texted the others when they had started blowing up his phone, having heard about the show that occurred in Sutherland's class.

 

**From Scott:**

**R u ok? Evry1 is tlkin abt u & Derek.**

 

**To Scott:**

**Extremely angry on Der's behalf. Completely ok, home & safe.**

 

**From Erica:**

**Dude, Derek pissed himself in front of the entire class?**

 

**To Erica:**

**Sutherland was bein a dick, I'm gonna get dad on it.**

 

**From Lydia:**

**Heard u told Sutherland off. Good job, hope Derek is ok.**

 

**To Lydia:**

**Derek is fine, see you later.**

 

Stiles thinks about texting his father before they go to pick up Isaac, before deciding against it. They'd see each other tonight, he'd talk about it then, hopefully they could get Sutherland fired or at least disciplined for it. He basically verbally harassed Derek, then touched him. Touching a student was an unspoken rule, you could get so many law suits for tussling a kid's head nowadays.

 

But then he'd gotten a text regardless.

 

**From Daddy-O:**

**Are you home?**

 

**To Daddy-O:**

**Yes, Derek is here 2.**

 

**From Daddy-O:**

**Good, keep him there, Isaac as well. I'll be home later, have to go to the school to settle some things.**

 

**To Daddy-O:**

**Kick ass, Pops. Derek hasn't had someone to fight for him in a long time.**

 

After he sends it, the words settle in his chest, eyes raking over them over and over again. Obviously, Peter wasn't fighting for him, if Laura wasn't speaking to him, then she wasn't either. Derek's been feeling alone for years, abused, neglected, something...

 

Stiles shakes the thoughts from his head, standing up and walking over to the bed. He sits down on the edge, taking in Derek's appearance. His hair is sleep tussled, face slack, mouth hanging open as he steadily drools on Stiles' pillow. Stiles doesn't want to wake him up, but they really need to pick up Isaac soon.

 

"Derek?" He whispers, Derek's nose twitches slightly. "Derek, wake up." He sings softly, the teen's face scrunches up a little before he blinks his eyes open tiredly. Smacking his lips a few times, he squints up at Stiles in slight confusion.

 

"We have to pick up Isaac." He explains. "But maybe you could stay here, and I could do it?" Stiles suggests, Derek shakes his head and slowly sits up.

 

"They won't release a child to a stranger, has to be strict instructions from a parent or whatever." He grumbles tiredly, looking absolutely adorable as he tries to tame his hair with a small frown.

 

"Where're my glasses?" He asks when he notices he hasn't had them on, Stiles smirks, he gets up and walks over to his desk to grab them. Derek slips them onto his face and sighs, pulling his feet from out the covers.

 

"You want to keep the PJ's on?" He asks, Derek scoffs.

 

"No, it's hot as balls out there. S'cold in here." He mumbles, Stiles thinks he likes sleepy Derek, he's more talkative.

 

But then he strips his shirt, yawning with his mouth big and wide. His chest is quite toned, not very tan, but there it is. Written across the top of his chest in pretty black letters, it has a white scar across like someone took a jagged knife to it. it It's low enough to be hidden beneath a shirt, but it's big, prominent. It makes Stiles sick to his stomach.

 

"SWEETHEART"

 

Stiles falls very still as Derek stands there, rubbing his eyes tiredly and still swaying with sleep.

 

"You got a clean shirt I can borrow?" He asks, Stiles agrees and turns to dive into his closet.

 

When he turns back around, Derek's looking a little more awake and aware of his naked chest. He takes the shirt from Stiles and quickly shrugs it on, avoiding his eyes as he turns away.

 

"How much longer until we can go pick up Isaac?" He asks quietly, Stiles sighs and grabs his phone from his desk to check the time.

 

"Twenty minutes, but we can leave early and maybe just sit in the parking lot to chill." He says with a shrug, he's not going to mention anything. Pushing is bad, forcing someone to talk about traumatic events only causes distress and mistrust. Derek will tell him when he's ready.

 

"Where's my backpack?" Derek looks around, Stiles' heart drops into his stomach. He didn't have it when he found him, he had it when he walked into class along with his books.

 

"I didn't see them back in the parking lot." He says, Derek drags a hand through his hair.

 

"We need to go find them, my wallet's in there, along with my keys." He mutters with a sigh, Stiles nods.

 

"Okay, so no parking lot chill. We go, pick up backpack and books, go get Isaac." He says with a few gestures, Derek nods.

 

-

 

They drive down to the parking lot, cars are still in the lot, although some of the seniors have left. Stiles explains where he found Derek, and they begin looking around. It takes a few minutes, before Derek calls out that he found them.

 

"Must have dropped them.." The backpack is sitting at the edge of the parking lot next to a car, his books splayed everywhere. Derek picks up his poetry book carefully, checking it over for damage before sighing in relief when he finds none. He helps Stiles pick up the rest of the books and then takes them to put them into his backpack.

 

"We should get lunch after we pick up Isaac, if that's okay... I'll pay." Derek says as they get back to the car, Stiles smiles.

 

"I'd really like that, but my dad is going to come home after school's out and want to talk to us.. So how about I make us lunch at the house?" He suggests, Derek's suddenly tense, staring down at his lap with his hands fidgeting together.

 

"Y-Your dad wants to talk? About what?" He questions softly.

 

"About what happened today, getting statements and such." Stiles shrugs, starting up the car.

 

"Why?" Derek asks.

 

"Because that was like assault, psychological trauma. I dunno, he deserves to be punished." Stiles says, trying to keep the venom from his words.

 

"But if I let it go, nothing happens right?" He murmurs, Stiles turns his head to look at him.

 

"Pardon?" He questions.

 

"I don't think Mr. Sutherland should be fired."

 

"Derek, he made you piss yourself!" Stiles snaps, falling quiet when Derek flinches. "Sorry, I just, he can't just away with that."

 

"I've had much worse happen to me, Stiles. I'm not going to file charges or shit like that, I don't want people digging into my past." Derek says with an unsure shrug of his shoulders, crossing his arms and looking out the window.

 

"Why?" Stiles knows he shouldn't press, but if Derek denies him the information, he'll drop it.

 

"Because let's say we go to court. They could say that I'm just so messed up that it could have happened with anyone, that I'm in need of caring for, that I belong in a home.. That... That I'm not capable of raising a kid!" His hands grip his pajama bottoms and he makes a soft wheezing noise like he's about to start hyperventilating again.

 

"Hey, take a deep breath.." He reaches over and rests his hand on the back of Derek's neck, rubbing gently when Derek's too distracted to notice he's being touched. "If you don't want to file charges, then we won't. I know Isaac means a lot to you." He murmurs.

 

"Isaac comes first, always." Derek whispers, breathing deeply and letting out a long exhale.

 

"Okay, c'mon, we gotta pick up your kid." He explains, before backing out of the parking space and heading off towards the elementary school.

 

The drive there is quiet, and when they pull up, Derek still seems rattled and distracted. They pull into the parking spot, Stiles parks the car and gets out.

 

"I'll go grab the tyke." He says, walking over to the line of kids.

 

"Stiles? Where's Papa?" Isaac questions, walking forward and holding his arms up in a silent demand to be picked up. Stiles does so, before turning to the teacher as she approaches.

 

"You're not Mr. Hale." The woman mutters, seeming a little wary.

 

"No, I'm not.. Derek's in the car over there. He's not feeling good today." He explains, pointing over at his Jeep. Derek's watching them, an arm propped up in the open window. He gives a small wave, Isaac waves back, so does the teacher.

 

"I see, and you are?" She questions.

 

"Stiles Stilinski, a good friend of Derek's. If Derek can't pick up Isaac, you can bet I'll be here." He smiles, offering his hand.

 

The woman gives a curt smile and takes it, shaking his hand.

 

"Stiles, is Papa sick? We should go home and let him sleep." Isaac says with a serious nod, Stiles grins.

 

"He just woke up, buddy. But I'm sure he'd appreciate some more sleep." He says as they walk towards the car. "He had a rough morning, so I took him back to my place and he slept for a while." He tells the boy.

 

"Good job, Stiles." Isaac approves as they reach the car, he straps Isaac into his car seat and ruffles the boy's hair.

 

"Thanks bud, I try." He snorts, moving back around to the front seat.

 

When they get home, the van is in the drive, alongside John's Sheriff car. When they walk inside, once the door closing alerts others of their presence, all the others are standing at the top of the stair rails. There's a murmur of awkward greetings from the kids, and then John appears down the hall near the kitchen.

 

"Can I speak to you two? Without the munchkin?" He asks, suddenly Scott is at the bottom of the stairs with his arms held out for Isaac. The four year old doesn't look too pleased but goes without a fuss. They walk into the kitchen to find John leaning against the counter drinking what is presumed to be coffee.

 

"So, I talked to Mr. Sutherland and the principal." He says quietly, gesturing them to sit down.

 

"Mind telling me your side of the story?" John questions, sitting down across from them at the kitchen table.

 

"I don't want to press charges, sir. I just want to forget about it." Derek says, John frowns.

 

"Why is that?" He leans forward on his arms that are resting on the table.

 

"I don't want to be investigated." Derek says simply.

 

"Are you hiding something?" The man mutters, Derek shakes his head.

 

"Nothing illegal sir, but there was an investigation in New York on my behalf.. If they claim I'm unfit to take care of my son..." He whispers, John nods and holds up a hand.

 

"I understand completely, your son comes first." He agrees, Derek sighs in relief and leans back in his chair. "Mr. Sutherland is suspended for a week, but soon he'll be back. If he gives you any trouble, you tell me."

 

"Of course, sir." Derek nods, sitting back up again.

 

"None of that sir, stuff kid. What happened to Papa Stiles? At least call me John." The man bargains, Derek shakes his head.

 

"Mr. Stilinski is too formal, John is too casual because I'm just a kid. Papa Stiles was created by a three year old who couldn't say your last name." He snorts, John grins.

 

"You gave me my nickname for life, though." Stiles offers with a smirk, Derek rolls his eyes.

 

"Stiles Stilinski, just awful. I'm sorry." He mutters, Stiles claps him on the shoulder and cringing when Derek flinches a little.

 

Stiles offers his father a small glance, finding he looks like a concerned parent but luckily he doesn't speak. They're silent for a moment, before John clears his throat.

 

"Have you found a job yet, son?" He questions, Derek shakes his head.

 

"No sir, not yet." He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck.

 

"How are you paying the bills?" The older man inquires, Derek sighs.

 

"Well, an older couple, good friends of mine.. Gave me money for at least a month, they paid for me and Isaac to fly here too." He tells the others quietly.

 

"I see... Not your Uncle or your sister?" He mutters, Derek shakes his head.

 

"No sir." He whispers, there's a stretch of silence.

 

"Well, I'll keep an eye out for jobs... Why don't you two go on upstairs and relax for a while?" The man finally sighs, the two escape quietly to the upstairs. Isaac is playing with Liam, Scott, and Erica in the loft, laughing and giggling.

 

Stiles takes Derek by the arm and leads him back to his room.

 

"I want to talk if that's okay.." Stiles tells him, Derek nods hesitantly.

 

"Okay... What about?" He murmurs.

 

"Nothing bad." He assures, he shuts the door behind them when they get into the room. He turns back to look at Derek, fidgeting where he stands in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Stiles thinks of that tattoo on his chest, that ugly scar across it. The fear, the flinching, the anxiety. He wants to chase it all away, make everything better.

 

He really hopes this turns out all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( This was a long chapter, but I couldn't find a good place to end it on without making it longer! Hope you enjoyed, comment on your thoughts and questions! )


	8. The Ugly Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles becomes a trustworthy person, and then secretly ruins it all in the same day.

"I'm not asking for a full explanation." Stiles says quietly, sitting down in front of Derek on the floor. Derek doesn't seem to like people towering over him, and Stiles needs him comfortable.

 

"Good, cause you're not getting one." Derek huffs, like he's already been cornered and pissed off.

 

"All I want, is for you to trust me." Derek stares down at him with a slightly confused glare.

 

"Isn't that what people say when they want to know something?" He mutters, Stiles sighs.

 

"I'll admit, I do want to know.. But the 'when' and 'if' of the situation are on your terms completely. If you want to tell me at some point, feel free to, if you want to tell me some of it, okay. If you want to tell me nothing, then I'm just fine with that. I just want you to know that if you want to share, I am willing to keep a secret." He whispers, Derek's expression softens slightly.

 

"I'm not sure if I want to talk about it at all." He says unsurely, Stiles nods and smiles.

 

"Okay, that's a start. We're talking, aren't we? You're expressing your feelings on the topic, and I'm happy that you can do that. I respect that. From now on, I am your buddy. From now to the end of time. I will always be here to talk to you, I am not going to leave you or betray your trust." He assures with a genuine smirk.

 

"O-Okay?" Derek mumbles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with a befuddled expression. "What does that mean?"

 

"It means that you now have a loyal confidant, regardless of situation. I'll be here to make sure you're all right." Stiles attempts to explain with a small gesture of his hands.

 

"Can... Can I do the same for you?" The older asks hesitantly, Stiles nods and lets out a soft laugh.

 

"That's really sweet, thank you." He agrees.

 

"You've done a lot for me, not a lot of people have shown me half the kindness you have." Derek says softly, Stiles sits up on his knees and shuffles forwards. He hesitantly rests his folded arms on Derek's thighs and rests his head against them.

 

"You deserve all the kindness I have, I assure you." He whispers, Derek's face lights up, before his cheeks turn red along with his ears. Then he leans down, the angle is awkward, but his lips touch Stiles' forehead gently before leaning away.

 

"Thank you, Stiles." He nods, Stiles sits back down on his bottom and smiles back.

 

-

 

Later on that night, Stiles is down making dinner after he and Derek had finished his homework. He thought it'd be good to help Melissa out for once, he hadn't really gotten any one on one time with her since Liam had come into the picture. He was close with her, she would never be his mother, but she was a lot like his mother in certain aspects and he respected her.

 

"Stop daydreaming and toss the salad, Stiles." Melissa tells him with a breathy laugh, turning into the laundry room when the buzzer on the dryer goes off. That's about the time his father comes back in, having gone back to the station for a quick something or other. He walks in, looking grave and pale.

 

"What? What's wrong?" He asks, before he's suddenly yanked into his father's bedroom and the door is shut and locked behind him.

 

"I couldn't help it, I wanted to make sure there was nothing illegal they could pin on Derek." He murmurs, Stiles' eyes widen.

 

"Dad, you didn't.." He whispers, glaring at the manila folder in his hand. "That's like a severe invasion of privacy!" He hisses.

 

"It's public record, Stiles!" John argues, before dropping the folder onto the bed and falling back onto the mattress.

 

"It's still wrong." His fingers itch with a need to see what's inside, but Derek trusts him, he shouldn't be digging. "So very wrong." He repeats.

 

"I'd tell you to look, but it's.. Well it's horrifying, to say the least." John says quietly, Stiles' eyes bore holes into the simple folder that holds secrets of the past inside it. He grabs it before he can rethink it again, the first page is a report, but he flips it and there's a picture.

 

Derek, standing in an office, probably a doctor's office. He's got bruises all over him, his glasses are cracked up and that scar on his chest over the tattoo is a scabbed over wound that looks infected. Multiple shots, of rope burns on his arms to whip marks on his back. Stiles flips through the extensive pictures in horrified awe. Until he gets to one and freezes up, finding it to be Isaac.

 

He's a bit younger, maybe three. He's got a black eye and bruise on his cheek. There's little bruises on his arms, but luckily nothing else. He skims over the report.

 

"Victims were found after a noise complaint, the older tied down on a dirty mattress, stomach down. The older, now identified as Derek Sebastian Hale (Sixteen) was unconscious and extremely dehydrated. The younger one, Isaac (Three), who has been deemed as the son of Hale was found handcuffed to a radiator in the same room."

 

Skims down again.

 

"The perpetrators were one Peter Hale, uncle to Derek Hale and legal guardian of the teenager, and Kate Argent. Kate Argent was Peter Hale's current lover and after DNA tests, the mother of Isaac Christopher Hale."

 

He can feel bile rising in his throat when he sees the mug shot of Kate, smirking like she's in a model photo shoot. Peter looks like hell, like he's on some sort of dope. But Kate just looks plain evil, it makes Stiles sick.

 

"The teen and child were placed into the care of Derek Hale's older sister Laura Hale. But after a custody battle with Isaac Hale's biological grandfather and uncle, in which Derek refused to relent custody to the man, the older sibling signed over her brother and nephew to a friend of the family."

 

Stiles sighs, runs a hand through his hair and sits down on the bed. His father pats his pat gently, and he can't help but flip back to the picture of Derek. Cracked glasses, body bruised and neglected, no emotion in his eyes. He feels his heart break a little more, staring into those dead eyes. He flips back to the report, eying the next few words.

 

"Derek Hale was awarded custody of his son and with the help of his family friend was legally emancipated. Hale is to report to counseling for six months and hold a steady job to support himself and his son."

 

"Dad, what ever happened to Isaac's uncle and grandfather?" He murmurs, there's silence, Stiles looks back at his father. "You keeping something from me??"

 

"Chris Argent, the uncle, lives here with his daughter and wife." John says softly.

 

"What if he tries to take Isaac away again? Because Derek doesn't have a job right now, Dad!" He exclaims quietly, his father rests a hand on his shoulder.

 

"For now, Chris has no idea. So we'll just try our best to help Derek get a job and then help in any way we can." He assures quietly.

 

There's a knock at the door, impatient and demanding.

 

"Dinner's almost ready and I can't finish it myself. I don't know what terrible deed the both of you are up to but commit your crimes later!" Melissa calls through the door, John and Stiles quickly close the folder and shove it into the bedside drawer before joining her in the kitchen.

 

"Sorry, sweetheart." John apologizes, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

 

"Disgusting, the both of you. I will vomit into this salad." Stiles threatens, even though he's smirking slightly.

 

The others join them for dinner, and every time Stiles glances at Derek, he worries for the future. Hopes that Derek will be able to take care of Isaac, hopes that the boy won't be taken away again.


	9. A Routine Of Sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a while, Stiles finds himself doing the same things every day. These things mostly involve Derek and Isaac, he doesn't mind at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( You didn't think I'd forget did you?? Of course not, unfinished fics are the most upsetting things in the world. I am right here, and I have promised myself to finish this fic! )

It's almost automatic now, has been for about two months. He leaves for school, picks up Isaac and Derek. After Isaac is safely at his school, they head to class. Derek sits with him at lunch, and he drives Derek to pick up Isaac after school. On Wednesdays they come over after school to the Stilinski-McCall house, any other day of the week Derek has work and Stiles drives them both to their house and watches Isaac.

 

At first, Derek was insistent on hiring a babysitter, but it should be known that the Stilinski-McCall's hearts are way bigger than their wallets. Stiles can't help but volunteer, he just stays at the house, does his homework and feeds Isaac. It's a simple job, not even worth being paid for. Isaac is a well mannered child, who sits and plays quietly most of the time. There are some days when he's as talkative as can be, not much of a bother really.

 

Weekends are Stiles' favorites, because Derek comes home around four and they all hang out together for a while.

 

Stiles worries about both of them, but he wonders about Isaac sometimes, if the nightmares he has are about what happened in New York. He didn't respond well to yelling, covered his ears and found a place to hide when it happened one Wednesday (Bickering is a common occurrence in their house, but shouting is a rare thing.). Stiles wonders what Kate and Peter did to him, it's obvious that Derek took a brunt of the trauma. Isaac probably barely remembered it, he was too young to comprehend everything going on.

 

He still doesn't know anything other than what he read in the file, Derek hasn't told him a thing. Stiles is left with so many questions always swimming around his mind. Isaac had told him in the beginning that his mommy was in Heaven, which doesn't make much sense considering Kate is definitely not dead and definitely doesn't deserve Heaven.

 

Isaac seems to harbor a hatred towards Peter and Kate, calling them 'she' and 'he' whenever he mentions being worried about his papa because of what happened back in New York. He obviously knows what happened, and comprehends that it was bad. Maybe he doesn't know Kate is his mother, and maybe that's for the best. He's happy at most times, and a good kid too.

 

Yet, he still worries, Isaac is sweet and kind, Stiles can't help but feel protective of him. He's the same way with Derek, they deserve some protecting.

 

"Got your coloring book where you can find it?"

 

"Yep."

 

"Colors too?"

 

"Uh-huh." He crouches down to be at eye level with his son.

 

"What about Sir Snaps?" Derek points to the boy, who holds up his stuffed wolf for his father to see. 

 

"He's right here, Papa!" Isaac giggles as his dad pulls him close and kisses at his face.

 

"Okay, now you be good for Stiles. I'll be back later." He explains quietly, Isaac nods and hugs his father tightly. Derek's wearing a simple t-shirt, jacket, beanie and skinny jeans combo. He didn't have a uniform for this job, which was loading boxes at a packaging company. The money was good, although the work usually took a lot out of Derek.

 

There was that job, and the other job at a pizza place working in the back. He worked the packaging job on the weekends and the pizza job on weekdays. Stiles knew that Isaac was really bummed when his father got the packaging job, because they only had weekday mornings and weekend nights to be together. But Derek had to make money somehow, and this was paying the bills.

 

"I promise, papa." Isaac says dutifully, before Derek stands up.

 

"I'll be back around six, I took on an extra two hours this weekend just to try it out." He explains to Stiles, who nods, before ruffling Isaac's hair.

 

"Go find a movie to watch or something, I'll be there in a minute." He says, Isaac nods and races off into the living room. "I don't mean to pry, but is there a reason for this extra shift? You're making enough money, right?" He questions, Derek nods with a small smile.

 

"It's fine, Stiles. Just a trial thing, someone quit and they needed the extra help. I'm saving up to buy Isaac a birthday present." He says softly, Stiles smiles.

 

"Ah yes, an approaching birthday. The sixth of March, correct?" He grins, Derek nods. "I'll make sure everyone knows, we can have a nice little party. We can do cake and balloons." He rambles with erratic gestures.

 

"Stiles, you don't need to do anything." Derek assures him with a frown, Stiles simply smiles.

 

"Need? Nah. Want? Yes." He says with a soft laugh. "It'll be something simple, Der." He pleads, Derek sighs before giving Stiles this look he can't name.

 

"Thank you, Stiles. For everything." Derek leans forward and pecks him on the cheek, before turning around and stepping out the door. When the door slams shut, Stiles wavers on his feet, touching his cheek gently.

 

"You're welcome." He says quietly to the door.

 

"LION KING!" Isaac declares loudly as he enters the living room, holding up the DVD for Stiles to see.

 

"Prepare for tears, little man." He snorts, picking the boy up and kissing at his curly hair gently. When he sets him down to set the disk in the player, Isaac pats his shoulder.

 

"Only real men cry, pop." He giggles, Stiles freezes up as Isaac races over to the couch.

 

_Pop._

 

It has to be a slip of the tongue, even though it makes his chest ache with something similar to want. He wants that so desperately, he's young and he knows it. But he wants Derek and Isaac to be his, wants to have this to come home to for years. He wants to fall asleep next to Derek, and have Isaac crawl into their bed at night when he has a nightmare.

 

He wants so bad it hurts.

 

"You okay, Stiles?" Isaac's voice is wary, cautious.

 

"Yeah bud." His voice is a little hoarse, but he clears his throat and closes the disk player. "Just fine." He turns around and smiles.

 

-

 

Lunch time is fun because after a couple of sandwiches with some bananas and strawberries on the side, Stiles makes cookies. He lets Isaac help of course, the boy enjoys it because apparently his father doesn't have too much time to do stuff like that.

 

"Papa can cook real good." Isaac tells him while they stir the dough up, before leaning over conspiratorially and whispering. "Better than Boyd and Scott." Stiles leans back with a dramatic gasp.

 

"Even better than Chef Boyd and Chef Scott!?" He tries his best to sound scandalized, Isaac nods seriously. "One day I'll just have to be the judge of that." He says with a smirk, Isaac continues to stir the dough.

 

Someone knocks on the door, Stiles frowns and wipes his hands. He picks the bowl and Isaac up, setting the bowl on the counter and walking to the door.

 

"Probably someone trying to sell us something." He shrugs to Isaac, who simply holds onto his neck and hitches his legs onto Stiles' waist.

 

When he opens the door, there's a man standing there. He has short gray hair and a beard of the same color, his eyes are a striking blue color. His gaze flickers over Stiles' face before landing on Isaac with a sort of awe.

 

"Look how big you've gotten." He smiles, hands clasped before him like he's refraining from touching the boy.

 

"Pardon?" Stiles mutters, adjusting Isaac to his other side, who buries his face against Stiles' neck. "Who are you?" He asks.

 

"Sorry, very rude of me. I'm Chris Argent, Isaac's uncle." He greets, sticking his hand out. Isaac clings to him tighter, Stiles can feel his tiny heart racing where it's pressed against his chest.

 

"Stiles make him go away!" He demands frantically, Chris frowns. "Don't let him take me, Stiles, please!" The boy begs, hiccupping to signal an oncoming fit of tears.

 

"I don't know who you think you are. But showing up unannounced isn't going to get you anything but a door in your face." He snaps, wrapping his arms around Isaac and rubbing at his back while he cries softly against his shoulder.

 

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Chris questions, that blue gaze gaining a sharp intensity. Stiles doesn't waver or step down, he looks the man right in the eyes.

 

"I'm Stiles Stilinski, _son of the Sheriff_. I'm Isaac's babysitter, and I think you should leave. Don't come back here like this again, this family has been through enough already." He steps back and shuts the door, locking it and walking down the hall into Isaac's room. Isaac's fits are few and far between, but Stiles could handle it. Derek had told him about this, prepared him.

 

He closes the door behind him and switches on the top light, sitting down on the bed and turning on the lamp. Isaac won't separate from him just yet, so he holds him and rocks him carefully, running a hand through his hair and rubbing at his back.

 

"It's okay, you're safe. I won't let anyone take you away." He whispers softly, mutters a mantra of soothing words until his sobs die down and his grasp loosens slightly. Stiles lays back on the small bed, letting Isaac rest on his chest while he shushes him softly.

 

Eventually he's quiet, breathing deep and even, Stiles dislodges him and lays him on the bed. He tucks the boy under the blankets, before getting up and turning off the top light. He heads back into the kitchen to clean up and finish the cookies. Eventually, once the cookies are ready, Stiles brings a plate of them to Isaac's room with a cup of milk.

 

He sets them down on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed, runs a hand through Isaac's curls.

 

"Isaac, wake up bud." He whispers, Isaac's eyes blink open sleepily. "Thought you might want a cookie." Isaac sits up, wiping and rubbing at his eyes. He reaches over and grabs a cookie off the plate, nibbling on it while glancing around the lit up room.

 

"Is papa home yet?" He asks softly, Stiles sighs and shakes his head.

 

"He's still at work bud, until six." He explains, Isaac frowns down at his cookie.

 

"What if he shows up at papa's work? You should call him and make him come home." The boy argues, Stiles offers him the cup of milk. Isaac obviously wants his father, and Stiles definitely couldn't replace him. But for now he'll have to do his best

 

"Your dad has to work, he'll be fine." He assures with a smile as the four year old sips at his milk.

 

"Is that man gonna take me away again?" Isaac asks hesitantly, Stiles shakes his head.

 

"Your papa and me will never let that happen." He says sternly. "Wanna go watch some TV with our cookies?" Isaac crawls out from underneath the covers and grabs onto him. Stiles carries him into the living room, letting the young boy lay on his chest while they watch cartoons.

 

He thinks about what's to come later this evening. Derek hadn't had an episode since the thing at school, but this would almost surely cause a reaction. He didn't want to tell him, he wanted Derek to be oblivious, but it's better for him to know and be prepared. Obviously Chris wants to see his nephew, and if they deny him, there's almost no doubt that they'll go to court over it.

 

Stiles didn't want either of them to have to go through this again, but if they had to, Stiles would be right there with them. He knows his family would feel the same.

 


	10. These Heavy Burdens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles comforts Derek during a time of weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Computer malfunctions are a bitch! But I'm back now, so here's the next chapter you've been patiently waiting for! )

When they hear the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door, Isaac scrambles off the couch. Stiles' heart starts to beat a little faster, worried for what might happen in the next few minutes. He moves from the kitchen and walks to the door as it swings open, Derek moving inside before closing it behind him. He picks up Isaac, who clings to him quietly, Derek should receive an award for an extremely attentive parent because he immediately notices something's wrong.

 

"What's wrong, buddy?" He asks, placing a hand on the back of Isaac's head and bouncing back and forth in a soothing motion. "Bad day?" He asks quietly, Isaac just holds on and says nothing.

 

"We should probably talk." Stiles says quietly, Derek's face grows a little more concerned. "Isaac's okay, we just, we need to talk." He whispers, Derek nods. Isaac is reluctant to release his iron grip on his father, but after some insisting he lets himself be placed onto the ground.

 

"Go on to your room, play with your toys or something." His father assures him, Isaac sulks off to his room. "You look like you're gonna throw up, Stiles. You're making me nervous, just tell me." Derek says, shrugging off his jacket and removing his beanie. Once they're in their correct place, Stiles leads Derek into the living room.

 

"Someone came to the door earlier." He explains softly, Derek nods while making a face that commands him to continue. "Chris Argent." He says quietly, Derek tenses up. "Please don't freak out, I told him to leave." He tells him hurriedly, Derek blinks at him before looking away.

 

"How much do you know?" Derek asks quietly, Stiles tenses up. "Your father has been giving me pity glances for a few weeks now, if he knows then you know." The older mutters.

 

"There was a file, my dad went digging." He says hesitantly. "I wanted to know, so I could help." Stiles says.

 

"That's my personal business, Stiles." Derek tells him, before sighing. "I should probably tell you."

 

"Not if you aren't ready, I know enough to realize that your trauma is much deeper than I thought." Stiles says, hands fidgeting in his lap, itching to touch and soothe. "You don't have to feel pressured to say anything." He watches Derek for a long time, he's tense as he stares at the coffee table. It's a long awkward silence, heavy with tension.

 

"I'd feel more comfortable if I could do this in the bedroom, if you don't mind." Derek says after a while, Stiles nods immediately.

 

"Yes, of course. Whatever you want." They walk into the bedroom, which Stiles has never really been in. The bed is pushed far away from the door, two sides of it against a corner. There's a lamp, books on the bedside table, on the desk near the door. There's already a pallet of blankets on the floor, a pillow atop them.

 

"I sleep here when I get nightmares." Derek says softly, sitting down on the pallet. He's sharing something so private, something he keeps quiet. Stiles sits down on the pallet as well, across from Derek. "I get nightmares a lot."

 

"Isaac does too." Stiles adds, Derek nods.

 

"He's been through counseling, there's just some things you can't erase." The older says, playing with a loose thread in the blanket below him. "Where... Where should I start?" He questions.

 

"Wherever you want." Derek sighs, and they sit in silence for a few more minutes. Stiles doesn't mind, knows that Derek will speak when he's ready, just needing to gather his thoughts.

 

"This house, when we first got back here, I didn't think I could stay for more than a minute." Derek's fidgety now, staring down at his lap as he shifts and squirms in place. "I took one step inside, and I thought to myself 'I can't stay here'." Stiles doesn't talk, he just focuses on the zipper of his jacket, taking in Derek's trust in him.

 

"I walked into the kitchen, and I remembered the first night here after the fire. I remembered Laura being asleep in Isaac's old room, it belonged to Peter's daughter Lila." His breath shudders slightly, before he gives a smooth exhale. "I couldn't sleep, I was in the kitchen, just sitting at the table. Peter came in, and he started talking. But he sounded so weird, he hadn't talked to me since the fire... But now he sounded so odd." Derek's hand moves in tiny circles over his jeans, rhythmic and possibly unintentional.

 

"And I mentioned playing in the sandbox in the backyard with Lila, and he just snapped. He snatched me out of my chair and slapped me so hard it made me dizzy." Derek falls quiet for a moment, only the sound of his hands against his jeans, rubbing idly in a habitual sort of way. "He told me to go to bed before he made me wish I was dead." He shakes his head, eyes unfocused slightly, lost in a memory.

 

"It wasn't bad at first, simple really. When Peter's angry, you avoid him, when he's drunk, you hide and hope he doesn't find you. Laura couldn't hide, but Peter didn't hit her that much." He does this small motion with his upper body, sort of like rocking but it's barely noticeable.

 

"How old were you when you first tried to kill yourself?" Stiles manages to ask, voice a little croaky with emotion.

 

"Eleven the first time." He whispers, biting on his lip before removing one of his hands from his jeans to run through his hair. "Thirteen the second."

 

"Thirteen, a year after you moved to New York."

 

"The second time was after... We had been living with _her_ for a few months. She- oh God- she was so much worse." The rocking is more prominent now, Derek's eyes glassy with tears, lip trembling. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out something close to a sob but not there yet.

 

"You don't have to keep going." Stiles tells him, but Derek shakes his head.

 

"Laura left for college the year before, she left me, didn't even visit. Laura left me with _her_." He whimpers, covering his eyes with a hand. " _She_ loved younger boys, thought they were cute. Peter was so doped up, but he wouldn't have cared regardless. I jumped in f-front of a car and she punished me, t-tied me down and b-beat me." Derek wraps his arms around himself, eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted together. " _Sweetie, sweetheart, cutie_." The older boy spits with hatred, breaths growing ragged and choppy.

 

"S-She put something in my drink a few days later, when I woke up, she had tattooed it on me..." He chokes out, grinding his teeth audibly. "When I w-woke up, she told me she was a month pregnant. Made me hug her and tell her th-that I loved h-her." Stiles' heart is in pieces, arms wanting to hold and hug, anything to comfort this poor guy.

 

"Stop, Der, that's enough..." He whispers, Derek falls silent, rocking back and forth, face pale and eyes clenched shut. "You're here now, you're safe. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, would I?" He questions, Derek gives a jerky shake of his head. "What was that poem you like? Stopping By A Forest or something like that?" He asks softly.

 

"St-Stopping By Woods O-On a Snowy Evening." Derek states breathily..

 

"Yeah, that one. Can you read it to me? Can you recite it?" He asks, Derek's face twists into a frown. "Can you remember the words, Derek?"

 

"Who-Whose woods these are I th-think I know." He stammers out after a moment, mouth moving silently to repeat the words as he attempts to bring the rest of them to mind. "His house is in the village though; he-" Derek pauses, breathing quietly as he licks his lips anxiously. "will not see me stopping here to watch his woods fill up with snow." He recites quietly.

 

"That's it, keep going." Stiles says softly.

 

"My-My little horse must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near. Between the woods and frozen lake, the darkest evening of the year." His rocking slows, breathing becoming more even and less labored. "He gives his harness bells a shake to ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep of easy wind and downy flake." His eyes open slowly, a few stray tears gliding down his face as he blinks.

 

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep." He takes in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "And miles to go before I sleep." He whispers, Stiles gives a cautious smile.

 

"You okay?" He murmurs, Derek looks up at him with watery eyes, shrugs slightly.

 

"I could use a hug." He says, voice shaky. Stiles grins, pulling him into a tight embrace.

 

"I'm so glad you're back home, that way I can know you're safe, I can keep you safe." The younger mumbles as Derek buries his face against Stiles' shoulder. "I can hug you and talk to you, hold you tight and never have to let go." He teases, feeling the slight jump of laughter in Derek's body.

 

"Would you be against sleeping with me tonight?" Derek asks when they pull away, Stiles frowns, Derek hurries to elaborate. "Just sleep.. I'm scared to sleep alone after dredging things up." He explains shyly.

 

"Of course, but c'mon, I made you dinner. Me and Isaac already ate." He pulls Derek to his feet, the older wiping at his face as they walk to Isaac's room.

 

"I need a hug, c'mere." Derek says when he opens the door, Isaac running over and leaping into his outstretched arms. "I love you, buddy."

 

"I love you too, papa." Isaac says softly, before stretching one arm in Stiles' direction. "Stiles does too, c'mon Stiles." The boy beckons.

 

"Oh no, I'm good." Stiles shrugs, Isaac makes an impatient noise and Derek smirks at him before opening the arm not embracing his son.

 

"Come on, Stiles. Love is infinite." He grins, Stiles steps forward and squeezes them both. His chin hooks over Derek's shoulder, Isaac's head nuzzled under Derek's head and pressing against Stiles' neck. Isaac's chubby hand is clenched in his shirt, Stiles' arms wrap around both Hale boys. It lasts a good minute, a nice firm embrace that he could get used to.

 

"C'mon, your papa has to eat dinner and then you can watch TV for twenty minutes before lights out." Stiles says as they separate, Isaac juts out his bottom lip in a pout.

 

"Will you read me a story, Stiles?" The boy asks, Stiles smirks.

 

"Of course, bud. But only one, then lights out." He pokes Isaac's nose before pulling him from Derek's arms into his own. He uses one hand to tickle Isaac, who squirms and giggles, before looking up at Derek. He's got this funny look on his face, smiling at the both of them. "What? He asks, shifting awkwardly.

 

"Nothing, I just... I just like what I see." The older shrugs, a slight pink tint splotching across his cheeks and ears as he turns to head down the hall.

 

"Papa likes you." Isaac says quietly, smiling at Stiles fondly. "I do too." He nods, like he's made a final decision. Stiles sets him down and he runs off to find his father, he leans against the wall and tries to calm those annoying butterflies in his stomach. Stiles pulls out his phone and texts his father.

 

**To Daddy-O:**

**Chris Argent made an appearance, D wasn't home. Isaac threw a fit tho.**

 

It doesn't take long for his father to text back.

 

**From Daddy-O:**

**Did you tell Derek?**

 

**To Daddy-O:**

**Yes, and he told me a lot of stuff. Been a rough night, askd me to sleep over.**

 

**From Daddy-O:**

**I'm proud of you, don't stay up too late. :)  We'll talk tomorrow.**

 

He sighs as he stares down at the text, wondering if his father was implying something or he just used a smiley face and Stiles took it wrong. He'd never even think of putting the moves on Derek, he's not in a good position for mindless horny sex. Stiles wouldn't even have a problem with Derek never wanting sex, not that he isn't attractive, that's just not what this was about. He's falling for Derek, hard.

 

He wants to keep him safe, hold him tight. And tonight they were going to sleep together, just sleep. This was huge, it may not seem like much, but it was a lot of trust. To sleep with Stiles so near him, in the same bed as him.

 

"Stiles! C'mon! You glued to the floor in there?" Derek calls from the kitchen, punctuated by a giggle from Isaac. Stiles pushes his thoughts to the side and heads towards the kitchen.

 

 

 


	11. A Punch And A Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles really should have asked Scott about his new girlfriend he's been sneaking around with. It really would have saved him the trouble, he thinks to himself as her family shows up for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Whoo! New chapter, people. Sorry I took so long, had some serious lack of inspiration for a while. But here I am, and this chapter is pretty intense.. )

Things fall back into their normal rhythm with ease, Chris Argent pushed to the back of their minds but not forgotten. According to Derek, Isaac has been waking up screaming more often lately since the incident. It's driving Derek into the ground, the idea of the man that tried to take his child away is so close. He obviously isn't sleeping as well as he should be, and it's beginning to worry Stiles.

 

"Tired?" Stiles asks quietly while they sit in the loft on a Wednesday, Isaac is demanding to be wrestled with by Stiles because Derek refused to. So he stands next to the couch and flips the boy around, listening to him giggle and shriek with every swoop and twist. Derek is settled against the couch arm, there's a slight discoloration under his eyes signaling sleep deprivation. He pointedly ignores Stiles' single word approach, dropping his head against the back of the couch and letting his eyes slip closed.

 

"Go downstairs and play with Liam, okay?" He tells Isaac, setting the boy down. Isaac frowns, lips pursed in a pout. He sighs when Stiles raises his eyebrows slightly, daring the boy to try and argue. He huffs quietly before disappearing down the stairs. The more he got to know the boy, the more he realized that he was a lot like his father. Quiet at times, but held a sort of ferociousness that put Stiles at a loss of words. He thought Liam was an angry child, but then he dealt with Isaac after a nap that was just a bit too long.

 

"I get that you want to be strong for Isaac." He says once he knows the young boy is out of earshot. "But you're killing yourself here. You need sleep, and you're pushing yourself into work tired and irritated." Derek looks over at him with a scowl, adjusting his glasses before sinking down further into the couch. "I'm just trying to help, Der." Stiles murmurs, Derek sighs, loud and overdramatic. "Okay, fine, be that way." He slumps down on the opposite couch, staring up at the ceiling fan that's rotating slowly.

 

They're both quiet for a long time, Stiles thinks Derek is going to grouch his way through the entire dinner tonight, but then he listens to the older shift on the couch.

 

"I'm sorry." He whispers softly, Stiles looks over, finding the sharp pair of eyes staring at him with sadness. "My mind comes up with the worst case scenario and they play back for me in my dreams, I can't sleep knowing that I'm going to see my son taken from me over and over again." He mutters.

 

"I figured that.." Stiles sits up, shuffling over to the other couch. He gets Derek to sit up, sliding behind him before letting him lay back against his chest. "Maybe I can convince my dad to let me sleep over tonight." He suggests, combing his fingers through the other's hair gently.

 

"You shouldn't have to worry about me." Derek says with a soft sigh, like he's already half asleep.

 

"But I want to, because I care about you and Isaac." He whispers, leaning forward a bit to kiss the top of his head.

 

"We shouldn't sleep, we gotta check out Scott's new girlfriend." Derek grumbles, turning over onto his stomach and resting his chin on Stiles' chest, looking up at him. "She cute?" He asks.

 

"I don't know, I haven't met her. Apparently she's a junior. I only know her first name. Allison." He explains with a small shrug, reaching up to pet Derek's hair, the young man shifting up to rest his head against Stiles' collar bone, breath warm against his neck.

 

"She's probably cute but really vicious... Scott seems like the type of guy that'd like a girl that can whoop his ass." He snorts, Stiles grins.

 

"Yeah, Scotty does love a strong willed woman." He sighs.

 

"Her family coming over though, weird." Derek comments.

 

"It's just her dad, her mom passed away not long ago." Stiles says, Derek gives a quiet sympathetic noise.

 

And with that, the doorbell rings. Scott bursts from his room, wearing a nice long-sleeved shirt and jeans. He's got his hair combed a certain way, looking excited and nervous at the same time.

 

"Slow your roll, Scotty. Her dad is gonna think you're desperate with that attitude." Stiles teases, Scott throws a passing scowl as he hurries to the stairs. Stiles and Derek get up, walking down the stairs and hanging onto the banister at the bottom of the steps. Scott checks his breath three times and adjusts his shirt before finally opening the door.

 

Allison steps into the door, smiling shyly with dimpled cheeks. She is indeed pretty, with beautiful brunette hair and a good sense of style. Lydia was going to steal her from Scott if he didn't watch himself, Stiles lost his first girlfriend and then found out she was dating Lydia a few weeks later. He was pretty upset but really, he can't blame the girl, she's gorgeous.

 

And then her father steps inside, gray silvery hair and piercing blue eyes, face calculated into a stoic assessing look. Stiles' heart stops as the man's gaze lands on where he's standing with Derek, surprise written on the man's face.

 

"Argent." Derek snaps, calling the attention of Scott, Allison, and the approaching Melissa who was holding Isaac.

 

"I really didn't know you would be here.." Chris reasons quietly, stepping closer to Derek. "I'm sorry for showing up unannounced." He explains, reaching out to touch Derek's shoulder.

 

Derek jerks back away, and his fist collides with Chris' jaw.

 

"Derek!" Stiles exclaims at the same time as his step-mother.

 

"Papa!" Isaac has somehow escaped from his hold and rushes over to the stairs, clinging to his father's leg.

 

"Fuck you, fuck your 'sorry'. Think that makes up for anything? You could say sorry for the rest of your life and I'd never forgive you." Derek spits as Chris holds a hand to his cheek, not looking too fazed about the punch.

 

"I'm sorry, I think I'm missing something." Melissa says, getting between Derek and Chris.

 

"Same here." Allison says, glaring at Derek. "Derek... Been quite a while." She comments.

 

"What did this jackass tell you Allie? That I was somehow the cause of everything? That's what his father said. Your stupid son of a bitch father!" Derek snarls at Chris, lunging at him. Stiles can barely hold him back, grabbing Isaac and pushing him up a few steps, away from the conflict.

 

"My father didn't do anything to you." Chris says sharply.

 

"Oh yeah, he just attempted to criminalize a sixteen year old abuse victim! You're a sick fuck, you know that right?" Derek's hands are balled into fists, if it weren't for Melissa's hand to his chest and Stiles' arms wrapped around his upper body, he'd probably be attempting murder.

 

"You were in no condition to take care of a child! You were a kid, a fucked up child with a toddler on his hands!" Chris argues. "We were trying to keep Isaac from ending up like you." Derek jerks forward, arms struggling against Stiles' grip.

 

"HEY!" John is walking in from the garage, his Sheriff face on. "What the hell is going on here?"

 

"A temper isn't the best thing to have when you're caring for a traumatized child." Chris says easily, eyes glaring at Derek.

 

"Fuck you, a crazy old man and his brainwashed son aren't any better." Derek is seething, Stiles has never seen him so angry.

 

"Both of you, shut up." The Sheriff demands. "I'm guessing Scott's girlfriend turned out to be an Argent." He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

 

"No shit." Derek growls, and John shoots him a glare.

 

"I suggest you take that attitude back a notch, Derek." The teen huffs, stepping out of Stiles' grip to pick Isaac up off the stairs. The boy is in tears, sniffling as he clings to his father.

 

"I get that you have some history. But arguing like children is below you." He shoots Chris a look, before turning to Derek. "Both of you."

 

"He hit me." Chris defends with a scoff.

 

"I didn't see anything." Stiles says with a smirk.

 

"I don't get why you can't get over it, Derek. He's Isaac's uncle, you're just his cousin." Allison's words cause a long silence.

 

"I'm Isaac's biological father." Derek says quietly, Chris and Allison's eyes widen.

 

"Hold up, you didn't know?" Stiles snaps.

 

"I didn't really attend to the case, my father did. I visited Isaac and Derek in the care of social services. I never- Oh my God." Chris mutters, putting a hand over his mouth.

 

"Brainwashed isn't seeming too unreasonable now, is it?" Derek says with an eye roll.

 

"You were... Isaac's four." Allison says.

 

"Yeah, thirteen year old dad. I got the memo when this happened." And he lifts his shirt up, revealing the scarred up tattoo on his chest. "The giant wound across it was a knife wound she gave me when I refused to fuck her." He snarls.

 

"Derek, that's enough." John says quietly.

 

"No, I'm tired of being quiet. Hiding away what happened. I spent nine years of my life in absolute hell, and when I'm finally free, your fucking family tries to take away my last chance of happiness." He points a finger at Chris. "Your sister was a crazy bitch, who thought little boys were cute. My nickname was 'sweetheart', she found out she was pregnant and drugged me, tattooed it on my chest." He shakes his head, tears gathering in his eyes. "Ever since my family died, I have been nothing but miserable. But your sister somehow made my life a million times worse. She took something from me, and I will never get it back."

 

"Derek." Stiles grabs his arm and Derek jerks it away, before looking back at him with a sigh. "Let me drive you home." He mutters.

 

As they pass by Chris, who's still standing in shock, Derek leans in close.

 

"Stay away from my son."

 

Isaac's still sniffling in the back while they drive, Derek is staring out the window, stoic and quiet.

 

"Do you want me to stay with you??" Stiles asks as they pull up to the house. Derek deflates a little, nodding silently.

 

-

 

When Stiles stirs awake, he realizes it's still pitch black night. Then he realizes that there's something attempting to climb the bed. A tiny hand grabs his leg from atop the covers and he recognizes a head of shadowy curls. Derek is curled up against Stiles' side, breathing softly, unaware of his son's presence.

 

"Isaac?" He whispers. "What's wrong?"

 

"I had a nightmare." The boy gets his upper half onto the bed, legs flailing. Stiles grabs his arm and tugs him up the rest of the way. "Can I sleep with you?" He asks softly, he's got his plush wolf in his arms.

 

"Yeah." He agrees, somehow pushing Derek over a little and allowing Isaac to get between them. "Comfy?" When Isaac nods, he readjusts and closes his eyes..

 

"Stiles, do you like boys?" His eyes snap open, too dark to see Isaac's expression.

 

"What?" He asks groggily.

 

"Boys... My papa said that some women like women and some men like men, and that he likes men... Do you like men?"

 

"I like men and women." He says hesitantly.

 

"Both?! That's so cool!" The boy whispers excitedly, before falling quiet again. "Do you like my papa?"

 

"Your dad has better things to do than be my boyfriend." He huffs.

 

"Then you can be my daddy. If you're my daddy, then papa has to be your husband. He'd like that. You can make dinner together and take me places and kiss, even though that's really gross, I heard married people like it." The boy tells him.

 

"I don't think it's that easy, bud." Stiles chuckles, settling an arm over the boy's chest, hand resting on Derek's arm.

 

"You love him don't you?" Isaac asks sleepily.

 

"Yeah, I do.." Stiles agrees.

 

"He loves you too.. And so do I... So you can be my daddy and his husband... It's that easy." The boy says with finality, before drifting off.

 

Stiles stays awake a little longer, fingers stroking Derek's arm when he makes soft noises in his sleep, other arm resting under Isaac's head. If it were up to him, he would have said yes... He would love to be Isaac's daddy, to be Derek's husband. To care for both of them.

 

He presses a soft kiss to Isaac's curls, nuzzling his face against the boy's hair and squeezing Derek's arm gently. He'd enjoy this for now, see where it takes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Stiles wants it so bad, my own writing is making me upset XD )


	12. Meltdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles really doesn't like teenaged girls, except for Lydia. Lydia deserves to have her feet kissed and her own personal slave because seriously, she is queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( I am still here, just a little busy. Just got extremely sunburned actually, owie. Enjoy the new chapter! )

Lydia introduces the group of teenagers to her new beau Jordan one day at lunch. He's smiley and kindhearted, much better than her first boyfriend. He has arms that are seriously unfair, Stiles doesn't know whether to be turned on or jealous of him. Being bisexual does shit like that to you. But, he's Lydia's, and Stiles has his heart set on Derek at the moment. Derek, who hasn't shown up to the table yet.

 

He turns his eyes to look at the door to the cafeteria, finds it closed and unoccupied. There's no sign of him around the room.

 

Then, the door opens and Derek walks in with a girl on his arm. Jennifer Blake, resident head cheerleader and all around bitch. Derek does not look very happy, in fact, he looks downright traumatized. His eyes seek out their table, giving all of them a look that screams 'fucking help me'. Stiles really isn't sure what to do.

 

Jennifer is basically dragging Derek and almost gets past their table when Lydia steps out and puts her hand before her to make the girl stop. She reaches out and offers a hand to Derek, who takes it gingerly and allows himself to be pulled away from the girl. Everyone in the cafeteria is settling into a quiet buzz of focus on the two top girls in school. Lydia, being one of the prettiest and smartest... Jennifer being... One of the bitchiest and prettiest.

 

"What do you think you're doing?" Jennifer asks quietly, giving both of them a pointed look.

 

"Sorry, you're traumatizing teenaged boys and I can't allow that to happen to one of my friends." Lydia says with a clipped smile.

 

"Derek is just fine, thank you. He was just about to join me at my table, weren't you sweetie?" Derek visibly flinches, then nods hurriedly while avoiding eye contact. "See?"

 

"Derek is too kind and shy to disagree with you. So I'll do it for him." Lydia says calmly, patting Derek's shoulder lightly. "There is no way in hell that he is doing _anything_ with you _anywhere_ , end of story." She says with a smirk, Jennifer scowls.

 

"Derek?" The cheerleader addresses him, who's pointedly looking at the ground and shifting nervously.

 

"You can sit down, Der." Stiles speaks up, knowing that if he's given a request he'll fulfill it with ease in fear of punishment. The teen quickly moves forward to pass by Jennifer and sit next to Stiles, but Jennifer takes a step in his direction. Her hand carefully sweeps across his crotch when he walks right into it. Everyone gets a glimpse of her nails scraping across the denim of his pants then trailing along his wrist. He freezes under the touch, paling dramatically.

 

An ignorant smile paints Jennifer's face, her hand moves up to stroke his cheek.

 

Derek reacts.

 

Oh God does he react.

 

He jerks back and his arm swings out, knocking the girl to the floor.

 

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" He screams over the silence of the cafeteria, breaths harsh and body taut with anger.

 

"Derek..." Scott murmurs, reaching out hesitantly and touching his arm. Derek spins around and grabs Scott by the shirt, his lips are curled back in a snarl as he pulls the other from his seat.

 

"What?" He growls, Scott looks confused and a little nervous. Stiles himself is pretty lost as well, because Derek has never acted like this. Except for... The day with Erica in the diner.

 

"Derek, let Scott go." Stiles says calmly, Derek's eyes search Scott's face with a scowl before glancing up at Stiles. "Let him go, dude." He mutters. He releases the fist clenched in Scott's shirt, the teen moves back to his original spot, staring with wide eyes at Derek.

 

Derek suddenly looks unsure, shifting back to his normal awkward self in a matter of seconds. His eyes flit around the entire room of people staring at him, fists loosening into nervous fidgeting open hands.

 

"I-I'm... Scott, I'm sorry." His voice is weak and raw, mouth a slanted frown. "I don't know... I'm sorry." He repeats quietly, hands drawing up against his stomach like he wasn't sure what to do with them. Then his pale eyes widen and he turns to look at Jennifer, who had just gotten up. "I'm really sorry." He apologizes softly, avoiding the girl's eyes.

 

"You have some nerve, you freak." She hisses, her hand makes a loud smack when it connects with Derek's cheek. "Probably a homo." She rolls her eyes and storms off, leaving Derek standing there trembling with a lost and pinched look on his face. Like he's completely humiliated and on the verge of bursting into tears, Stiles stands up and leads him out, away from prying eyes.

 

They go into the bathroom, where Derek stands there like he's still processing but there are tears streaming his face without his permission.

 

"You okay?" He mumbles, hands hovering over different places of Derek but hesitant to touch in fear of another violent reaction.

 

"I don't know why I did that." Derek admits softly. "I didn't mean to do that." He whispers.

 

"That's perfectly all right, Scott will understand..." He assures.

 

"I just... She touched me..." Derek explains with a small movement of his jittery hands and a pinched grimace.

 

"I know, and you were in defense mode and got carried away, that's fine. You didn't hurt anyone." He reassures once more.

 

"Her.. Her nails." Derek touches his wrist with one hand, the other pressed against his crotch softly, protectively.

 

"Don't think about it, yeah? She's a bitch that doesn't get boundaries." He can relate, Jennifer really liked awkward nerdy boys and Stiles had been her victim the year before. Lydia had told her off when she'd made him uncomfortable, and they'd become worst enemies.

 

"I feel sick." Derek mutters, Stiles doesn't hesitate to pull him close, hug him tight. Derek hesitates, stiffens, but minutely relaxes before burying his face in Stiles' shoulder. They stand there together, swaying slightly with Derek trembling in Stiles' arms.

 

"I could take you home." Stiles offers, but Derek shakes his head slowly. "You sure?" He runs a hand through the other's hair gently, kissing at his temple.  He doesn't really have time to contemplate how they got so affectionate so easily.

 

"I can't just leave every time I get upset. They'll think I'm crazy. It doesn't look good." Derek murmurs to him. "They'll take Isaac for sure."

 

"Hey, hey. Why are you saying that?" He pulls the other away, grabbing his chin to force the other to look at him.

 

"Someone called Social Services... They came to check on Isaac because there was an anonymous tip about me being mentally incapable of handling a child." He whispers, Stiles pulls him into another hug.

 

"Why didn't you tell me? I can get my dad involved, the Argents shouldn't be intimidating you like that." He whispers.

 

"Maybe they're right. I almost attacked Scott, what if I hurt Isaac?" Derek lets out a soft whimper, clinging to Stiles a little more desperately.

 

"Don't say shit like that. You'd never hurt Isaac, you deserve to raise your kid in peace." He reassures. "Now come on, I'm declaring this day over. No more school for you, you need a nap and some food." He pulls Derek back again, patting his cheek.

 

"Thanks, I guess." Derek murmurs, letting the other lead him from the bathroom.


	13. Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a calm(ish) discussion with Stiles, Chris, and Allison.

He doesn't want to go to court, there hasn't been a word about it, but the threat is there. He remembers the first case, living with Paige and her parents, having to go in front of a room of people. It had been stressful and too much to handle, he doesn't want to do that again. He doesn't want Isaac to have to deal with it either, doesn't want him separated from his father.

 

"You're sure about this?" Stiles had asked him this many times today, and while he really didn't want to be doing it... He had to. So he hitches Isaac onto his hip and knocks on the door, adjusting his button-down collar. Chris opens the door, blinking at them in confusion.

 

"I'm here to speak about Isaac." He says calmly, Chris nods and steps back, allowing them inside. Stiles' hand is a warm reassurance on his back, but his stomach is still doing flips in the meanwhile. There's noise coming from the kitchen, but Chris leads them into what he assumes is the living room. He shuts off the TV and tells them to sit, Derek sinks onto the couch with a nervous exhale. Isaac is clutching at his shirt, face hidden in Derek's neck. Stiles places himself at Derek's side, patting his leg gently.

 

"I'm glad to see you're being rational about this." Chris comments quietly.

 

"I want you to stop harassing me." Derek blurts suddenly, Chris' face twists into an expression of complete confusion. "You can't just bully me into giving Isaac to you." He elaborates, mouth twitching into a frown when the man still seems lost on the point of the conversation.

 

"You mean the dinner? I swear, I had no idea... I wanted to check out Scott's family." He mutters, waving a hand about.

 

"No, I mean calling Social Services on me. An anonymous tip..." He snaps, losing his cool for just a moment, but regains composure when Isaac clutches at him a little tighter.

 

"I never called Social Services..." Chris argues with a shake of his head.

 

"Social Services?" Allison's voice makes him jump, she's standing in the doorway, looking just as bewildered as her father. "We're worried about Isaac, sure.. But that's pretty harsh." She says as she walks into the room and sits down across from them, next to her father.

 

"Well... I wanted you to know.. That I'd be okay with Isaac visiting you, if he wants to..." He explains, Allison's face lights up, Chris too, looks slightly happier. "But he's worried you're going to take him away from me." He murmurs, patting his son's back. Allison drops onto the floor on her knees, shuffling over to Derek.

 

He tenses up when her hand rests on his knee, she offers him an apologetic look and places it on the couch instead.

 

"Isaac?" She whispers, the boy kicks his legs as he scrambles to cling further to Derek. "Isaac, can you please look at me?" She pleads, waits a moment. A single bright blue orb appears from behind Derek's neck, observing Allison warily. "Hello.. My name's Allison. I'm your cousin.. I know you're mommy." She offers softly.

 

"You do?" Isaac asks hesitantly, she nods. "You're my cousin?" Another nod, both eyes appear fully.

 

"I visited you once when you were real little. Your daddy and me were friends." She explains, Isaac leans back to look at his father for confirmation, he nods.

 

"You tried to take me." Isaac offers with a scowl, glaring at the Argents.

 

"We were afraid your dad was too sick to take care of you... Obviously, we were wrong." Chris offers from across the coffee table, smiling hesitantly.

 

"Papa loves me, he's a great papa." Isaac says confidently, hand still gripped in Derek's white button-down.

 

"I bet. But we were wondering if you wanted to visit us sometime. Not forever, just for a few hours or so. Just to get to know us?" Allison offers.

 

"Not for good, right?" Isaac asks, tone wary.

 

"No, you'd go home with your Papa after." Allison agrees.

 

"I'd have to come alone." Isaac explains, making the Argents frown. "Papa gets upset when we talk about you. He was so nervous this morning he puked up his breakfast." The boy mumbles, cuddling back against his father. Stiles shoots Derek a look, not having been informed of the young man's anxiety about the situation that apparently was worse than he let off.

 

"That's okay, you could come by yourself.. Or with your papa... Or maybe with Stiles." Chris tells him, Isaac nods cautiously.

 

"I guess that'd be okay. But I go home with Papa." Isaac says sternly, wags a finger at them. They both agree wholeheartedly.

 

"I have one condition." Derek speaks up suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to him. "Gerard can't see him." Chris begins to protest, but Derek holds up his hand. "It's obvious he's been lying to you about me, and I won't have him lying to Isaac." He snaps, Chris sighs.

 

"Here's my number." Chris says at the door, handing Derek a slip of paper, the young man shoves it into his pocket and offers a tight smile. "We look forward to seeing you, Isaac." Chris reaches out hesitantly and ruffles the young man's hair.

 

"Goodbye, Mr. Chris! Goodbye Allison." Isaac waves as they retreat to the car.

 

"Okay.. That went well." Stiles says as they strap Isaac into his car seat.

 

"Now all we have to worry about is Gerard." Derek grumbles as they get into their own seats.

 

"The guy's a jerk, yeah?" Stiles inquires.

 

"He represented himself in the court case... I threw up on the court floor during his questioning while I was on the stand." Derek admits quietly, Stiles reaches over and grabs his hand, grasping it firmly.

 

"We'll keep Isaac away from him." He promises, Derek nods and Stiles starts the car.

 

Stiles only hopes he can keep that promise.

 

-

 

Stiles gets a call one afternoon, from Derek's house, which sets off so many alarms. Today wasn't one of his days to watch Isaac, right? He glances at the clock, Derek should have been at work hours ago, he wouldn't be calling now... If Derek didn't call, Stiles didn't go over. Mostly because he now either called Stiles or Allison to watch him. He didn't want to take away from that... Man, he fucked up...

 

"Hello?" He answers, settling his text book to the side.

 

"Stiles?" Isaac, it's Isaac?

 

"Isaac, what's wrong?" He asks calmly, even though his heart is beating so hard his body is vibrating with it.

 

"Papa went to bed when we got home... And he started making a lot of noise, but his door is locked... I'm scared.." Isaac explains frantically, Stiles is out of bed and grabbing his keys.

 

"Okay, it's fine. I'm heading over, go into your room and play with your toys.. I'll handle your Papa." He orders, Isaac agrees. "I'll be there in a few minutes, just stay on the line with me." He books it over to Derek, listening to Isaac breathe against the receiver, making distracted 'vroom-vroom' noises, half-hearted and without purpose.

 

When he gets to the house, he unlocks the door with his own key and walks inside. Isaac greets him with a forceful hug to his legs, Stiles scoops him up and hugs him, kissing his cheek.

 

"Just stay in your room, okay? I'll be in there later to read you a story." He informs the boy, setting him down and closing the door once he retreats inside.

 

He tries the knob, true to Isaac's word, locked.

 

"Derek? Open up, it's Stiles... You're scaring Isaac, dude." He calls out, knocking on the door with soft raps of his knuckles.

 

No answer.

 

"Derek, please. You're scaring your kid and freaking me out. Tell me your okay, unlock the door, do something." Nothing....

 

He paces outside of the room for a few minutes, unsure of how to proceed. There's something wrong, Derek never misses work, never pulls any stunts that freak Isaac out so much. Eventually he starts using a credit card in an attempt to jimmy the lock, then has to get his lock-picking kit (do not judge him) from the Jeep. It takes a while, he's rusty, but eventually the lock clicks open.

 

The room is dark, curtains closed, no lights on. Stiles lets the light from the hallway leak into the room, standing in the doorway.

 

"I'm coming in, Der." He says quietly, peers around in the darkness. He stumbles his way over to the bed and turns on the lamp, finding the room a mess. The desk is out of place, papers and drawers everywhere. His pallet and bed are a mess, like he threw a massive tantrum and just tossed everything around. He checks behind the desk, in the closet, then crawls over the bed to the small space between the mattress and the wall.

 

Derek's curled up tightly, knees held to his chest and tear tracks drying on his red cheeks that lead up to his puffy eyes.

 

"Der.." He sighs softly, reaching out carefully and running a hand through his hair. Derek flinches ever so slightly, but doesn't make another move than that. He's shaking, deep tremors that travel through his body entirely. His eyes are slightly glassy, doesn't even acknowledge him. "Derek?" He touches his chin and tilts his head up in an attempt to catch his gaze. Derek's eyes lock with his, becoming just a little bit more aware, focusing slightly.

 

New tears well into his eyes, lips trembling, Stiles gently grabs his arms and pulls him from his hiding spot. Stiles settles Derek on the bed, calming him down with the best of his ability. He curls up against Stiles' side, one hand fisted into the other's shirt, just like Isaac had done a few weeks before in the Argent house. But then he notices the piece of paper clasped in his other fist, reaching over and pries it out of his grasp.

 

He scans the crumpled paper's words, frowning.

 

_Bad Father_

 

_Abuser_

 

_Sexual Deviant._

 

There's entire paragraphs filled with horrible slurs and insults, making Stiles' stomach churn. He skips to the middle.

 

_You will not raise that boy. You're nothing but a worthless waste of space, a mewling quim with a fake sob story. Kate told me the truth, how you begged for her to pay attention to her. Refused to take no for an answer. Your uncle forced her to perform for you, and you're going to regret ever fucking with the Argents. Do us all a favor and jump off a building, otherwise I'll be forced to take action. I'll take that boy from you, and nobody will ever find you._

 

_You'll regret it when I tie you down and make you scream._

 

It gets graphic, Stiles feels bile rising in his throat... The details are horrific, he crumples the paper up, throws it onto the bedside table, and pulls Derek up into a hug. Derek breaks then, letting out a heart wrenching sob and burying his face against Stiles' shoulder. He's shivering and gasping, Stiles gets scared that he might be going into shock or something, but eventually his cries die out and he falls asleep. Heart beating evenly, breathing steadily.

 

Stiles has to strip him out of his shoes and jeans and then tucks him into bed. He puts on a brave face, wipes his tears, and goes to read Isaac a story. After many reassurances of his father being okay, Isaac drifts off and Stiles exits the room. He jumps when he finds Derek standing in the hallway with bleary eyes. He looks so exhausted and without purpose, standing in a Henley and boxer-briefs.

 

"Go back to bed, Derek." He murmurs, Derek stares at him like he's expecting to be rejected. "What?"

 

"I... I-I don't wanna sleep alone... If that's okay." He explains quietly, nodding to the open bedroom door that leads into darkness. "You don't have to... I sleep in Isaac's bedroom sometimes..." Derek back-peddles, but Stiles pulls out his phone.

 

"I'm texting my dad, tomorrow we're gonna tell him about that letter... But tonight, I'm staying here." Stiles tells him, Derek nods hesitantly, allowing Stiles to usher him back into the bedroom. He turns the lamp back on, and promises to return. He walks through the house, locks the doors and makes sure everything's shut tight. He debates moving Isaac to the bed with them, but he doesn't want to wake him.

 

He crawls into the bed with Derek, curling around him protectively as Derek buries his face against Stiles' chest.

 

"It's gonna be all right... Nothing bad will happen, not with me here." He assures quietly, kissing his head gingerly.

 

"It's not true..." Derek mutters, Stiles is momentarily confused, but then he speaks again. "What the letter said.. I didn't..." His voice trails off, he sniffles quietly.

 

"Of course not, I'd never believe anything like that... Someone's gonna get their ass arrested for that letter." He grumbles, squeezing the other gently.

 

"Stiles?" Derek whispers.

 

"Mhm?"

 

"I.. Did you mean it?"

 

"Mean what?" He's already drifting off, just coherent enough to pay attention to Derek's words.

 

"You'd be his daddy?" Stiles tenses up so fast his muscles cramp, but Derek holds him tight. "You wanna be my boyfriend?" He demands desperately, voice soft. He had heard, heard everything Isaac and him had discussed before. His face was heating up, small stammers working from his throat. "Stiles?"

 

"I'd... I'd love to be your boyfriend... If you'd have me." Stiles admits pathetically, Derek squeezes him and leans up to kiss his chin.

 

"I love you, Stiles. Don't ever think anything else." He whispers, settling down against the other's chest, breathing softly against his neck. Stiles can feel their hearts racing against each other.

 

"I love you too..." He murmurs, nuzzles his mouth into Derek's hair and presses a kiss to his head.


	14. Guilty Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sheriff steps in on the harassment situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( An update for a story I haven't updated in so long!!! So very sorry, inspiration is hard to find these days! )

"This is..." John's expression holds all sorts of emotions, right now resembling that of a mixture of a cringe and a grimace. "Where did you get this, again?" He questions quietly as they sit in the man's office, looking up at Derek and Stiles. They had dropped Isaac off with Erica for the day, who had been clearly excited about watching the boy.

 

"It was on my doorstep." Derek answers softly, fidgeting in his seat. He looked rather uncomfortable, hands squished between his thighs and posture perfect and straight.

 

"Well, it seems to be someone using an awful tactic in an attempt for you to hand over Isaac to the Argents..." He sighs, rubs a hand over his creased forehead. "I'd say cut off all contact until this is figured out, you never know what they could do." He mutters, pulls his hand down to rub over his mouth.

 

"But what if that just makes it worse?" Derek inquires hesitantly, chewing on his lip. "They could get pissed off and just... I dunno, what if they break into my house?" He looks frantic at the idea, and it sends chills down Stiles' spine at the thought of Chris Argent ramming down Derek's door and kidnapping Isaac.

 

"From what I've seen with Chris, he seems to be a rational man... I doubt he'd be so chaotic and reckless." There was a pause, a heavily implied _but_ was at the end of the sentence. "Then again, maybe you should stay at our house, just until it's settled. We can have a bunch of eyes on Isaac and you at all times." He suggests.

 

"I wouldn't want to cause trouble." Derek says, but his eyes hold a bit of relieved hope.

 

"Just for a while, I'll look into everything and dig through some things..." John assures, before frowning down at the paper again. "This is pretty graphic, Derek." He says, raises eyebrows at the young man.

 

"Yes, sir... It is..." Derek nods, avoiding the man's eyes.

 

"Don't let these threats get to you, son. We'll figure it out, don't think about it too much." He mutters, before dismissing them. When they close the door behind them on the way out, Stiles reaches over and cautiously intertwines their fingers. Derek's cheeks fade into a dark red, biting his lip as he squeezes Stiles' hand in retaliation.

 

"I think we should go get frozen yogurt." He says as they head out to the car.

 

"Isn't that just ice cream?" Derek inquires, earning a shocked and appalled gasp from Stiles.

 

"How dare you equate frozen yogurt to- yeah, you're right..." He shrugs. "It's supposed to be healthier, I guess it has less bad stuff... But it tastes good and there's toppings." Stiles grins.

 

"Toppings are good." Derek agrees, laughing when Stiles waggles his suggestive eyebrows in his direction.

 

-

 

When Allison shows up at the door, Stiles is reaching for his phone and ready to call his dad.

 

"You shouldn't be here, you need to get lost before I have you arrested for trespassing or something." He threatens, even though Allison seemed nice, she could probably be all sorts of secret crazy.

 

"Scott won't answer my texts." She says to him with a scowl, Stiles flails his arms about.

 

"Maybe because your family is a bunch of looney tunes trying to take Isaac away from Derek!" He snaps, she gives him a look like he's the crazy one, an expression he's quite familiar with.

 

"We told your dad already, we didn't send that note." She huffs, crossing her arms.

 

"Then who did?! Who targets a seventeen year old with PTSD just to fuck with him?" He demands.

 

"I dunno, but it wasn't me or my dad... Maybe Derek pissed someone off and they're the ones going quote on quote 'looney tunes'." She pushes past him and calls out Scott's name, who leans over the rail with a wary smile on his face.

 

"Allison, what are you doing here?" He asks sweetly as she walks up the stairs, Stiles follows behind her.

 

"You've been ignoring me because of this Derek thing and we need to get something straight." She says as she reaches the landing.

 

"Your family's freaking the guy out, it's a little cruel." Scott murmurs, Allison rolls her eyes.

 

"It. Wasn't. Us." She says slowly, before frowning. "We're not sure who it is, but it isn't us." She shakes her head.

 

"What about your creepy grandfather?" Stiles snorts, Allison shrugs.

 

"We don't see him much, he lives a few hours away... My dad's pretty ticked off that he lied about the court case." She explains, the boys nod. "I am too, who does shit like that?" She scoffs.

 

"Crazy people." Scott says with a shrug, Allison and Stiles share a look.

 

"Looney tunes." They say together with amused grins.

 

-

 

"Again!" Isaac demands with a laugh, screeching as Erica tosses him over the back of the couch and onto the cushions.

 

"That's it, munchkin. I'm tired." She falls over the back of the couch and next to him, smiling at the boy.

 

"Do you like Stiles?" The boy asks after a moment, Erica frowns at him.

 

"Well he's a little annoying at times, but he's funny and nerdy in an annoying brother way." She admits, Isaac ponders this answer for a moment.

 

"Think he'd make a good daddy?" Erica squints her eyes at him.

 

"Why do you ask?" She murmurs.

 

"Because he loves my papa, and he loves me. And he's really nice and I want him to be my daddy." The boy explains in a rush of air, smiling brightly.

 

"That's a pretty big commitment for a couple of teenagers." She huffs, the boy gives her a puzzled look. "I dunno, Izzy." She says.

 

"I think he'd like to be my daddy... He makes papa happy. Papa never used to smile this much." Isaac explains, not noticing Stiles stepping from his room and stopping on the landing to listen to their conversation.

 

"Your dad's been through a lot." She agrees.

 

"We don't talk about what happened back then... But papa was finally getting better, then mommy died." The boy's eyes well with tears, he wipes at his face with a whimper.

 

"What was her name?" Erica inquires, pulling the boy into her lap.

 

"Paige." The boy admits, dropping his head against her chest. Stiles is frozen in confusion, who was Paige? Some woman Isaac thought was his mother? He wondered if Derek had been in a relationship with her.

 

"She was there after you and your dad had all that bad stuff happen to you?"

 

"Yeah, her and nana and grandpa. Papa was sad a lot, but mommy always helped me get dressed in the mornings and made me breakfast." The boy sounds so wistful, stuck in memories that shouldn't be so sad and painful.

 

"Sounds like a cool mommy." Erica presses her lips to the boy's head.

 

"She was... I think she'd like Stiles." Isaac tells her quietly.

 

"Yeah? Think she'd approve?" The teenager laughs softly.

 

"He can make papa laugh more than anyone. It's gotta be love." He sounds so convinced, Stiles' heart aches with the dedication the boy had.

 

"I'm home!" Derek's voice calls suddenly as the front door opens, Isaac scrambles off of Erica's lap and Stiles barely has time to duck into a room to avoid being spotted.

 

"Papa, Erica plays hide and seek so good. And Liam's got so many toys, even Spiderman!" The boy's mouth is going a mile a minute as he races down the stairs and leaps into his father's arms.

 

"Glad you're having a good time, buddy." Stiles steps out onto the landing and leans against the railing. Derek looks up at him and smiles. "Hey, Stiles." He greets, Stiles grins back.

 

"We should move in! Then you and Stiles can get married and we can all be a big happy family!" Isaac says with excitement, Stiles watches Derek gape at his son, mouth opening and closing in shock.

 

"Isaac, that's not-" He's cut off when Isaac grabs his face.

 

"You can have a husband, and I get a daddy! It's perfect! He even makes you smile!" The boy giggles, kisses his father's cheek and squirms until he's let down. He races upstairs, following Erica into her room.

 

"Apparently we're betrothed." Stiles snorts as the young man moves up the stairs.

 

"Apparently..." Derek shakes his head with a smile, when he stops before Stiles on the stairs, they both fall quiet and still. Derek leans forward hesitantly, Stiles inches in the same direction. Their lips touch briefly, just a simple press, but it makes Stiles' entire chest go weightless.

 

"We should... Do that more often." Stiles says, almost breathlessly, Derek nods.

 

"THEY'RE KISSING NOW, ERICA!!!" Isaac screeches from the doorway, slams the door behind him as his voice trails off. "I'll have a daddy in no time!" Erica opens the door and leans out, lets out a sharp whistle and shoots them a predatory grin.

 

"Shut the door, you demon." Stiles hisses, Erica cackles as she shuts the door once more.

 

"I'm sorry if all that daddy talk makes you uncomfortable. He's trying to get two parents into his life again.. I thought that kids are supposed to deny any new parental figures once another passes away, but..." Derek's voice dies out and he shakes his head, face pinched with emotion.

 

"I heard him talking about a girl, Paige?" He questions hesitantly, Derek sighs and rubs at his eye. "You don't have to talk about it." He assures.

 

"I should probably tell you, c'mon." He walks into Stiles' room and they shut the door behind them. Soon they're sitting across from each other on the bed, Stiles is completely willing to wait silently until Derek's ready.

 

At first it's just two minutes, then ten minutes, Derek's simply picking at a loose thread in his jeans and refuses to look up.

 

"You really don't have to tell me, Der." He whispers, Derek sighs, like the weight of the world is balanced on his shoulders.

 

"I met her dad in the hospital, real nice guy... He was the only one allowed around me for a while, he had a lot of experience with trauma patients." He says after a few more minutes. "He talked really quietly and didn't move too much, and he stayed about two feet away from me at all times." Derek explains, sighing.

 

"He figured out your boundaries." Stiles doesn't want him to stop, but he doesn't want to push questions. If he just pushes him in the right direction, though. "Made you feel safe." He adds.

 

"Paige loved music, baking, creating was her passion." His voice holds that same melancholy tone as Isaac's did earlier. "Her dad brought me a gift basket of calming CD mixes and a bunch of snacks every week." He pulls his knees up to his chest, settles his chin on top of the place they press together. "Their family came to the court house every time we had to attend. I didn't talk to people a lot back then, Mitch was in charge of making sure we kept our cool during recesses." He tells Stiles, bites his lip as he falls silent.

 

"How did you end up living with them? If you don't mind me asking." Stiles whispers hesitantly.

 

"When I was being released, I was too young and too mentally unstable... I was going to have to give Isaac up, I told Mitchell everything. His wife, Violet, she must have felt bad because she went to a lot of trouble to help us..." Tears well up in his eyes. "I remember telling Isaac that he might have to live with someone else for a while, but when he found out we were going to live with Mitchell... I'd never seen him happier." He smiles as a tear drips down his cheek, he presses his lips against the fabric of his jeans with a sniffle, gathering himself.

 

"Gerard wouldn't take no for an answer, and Violet almost got arrested because she tried to beat the shit out of him when she saw him outside." He gives a watery laugh. "That was after I threw up on the stand, I don't remember much... But I ended up back in the car with Paige in the front, we waited together while Mitch made sure Violet wasn't going to be charged." He smirks. "We spent about half an hour talking about simple things, her laugh was like the melodies she made with her music. Beautiful and carefree." Derek heaves a heavy sigh.

 

Stiles can't help but feel a little flame of envy, a lust for Derek to think of him that way. Almost like he could read his thoughts, Derek looks up at him with watery eyes.

 

"She was a lot like you... I guess I have a type." He smirks.

 

"Really? What is that type?" He inquires playfully.

 

"Beautiful, with a couple of moles, and a great ability to make me smile." He admits truthfully, making Stiles' heart feel like it was going to burst.

 

"How..." His voice cracks a little. "How did she die?"

 

"Car accident... Her mom was driving, someone swerved into their lane and they pulled the other way. Slammed right into an eighteen wheeler." Derek's breath hitches, more tears running down his face. "Violet was injured pretty bad, but she lived... But there was no hope for Paige." He whispers. "It was a closed casket funeral." He tucks his face behind his knees and muffles a sob, Stiles reaches out carefully and runs a hand through the young man's hair.

 

"I'm sorry." He sighs, and part of him wishes that Paige had never died. That Derek could have one less shitty thing in his life, be happy, Isaac could have a mommy and papa..

 

Yet still, he feels guilty for a small piece of himself that is glad for it. He wouldn't have seen Derek again, been able to meet Isaac, been able to fall in love. The feeling makes guilt rot into his chest like a virus, he pulls Derek close when the teen allows it, and wonders if Paige would actually approve of someone as him.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Hope you guys liked this new update, I think it turned out pretty good! Leave comments and kudos, they motivate me to search for more inspiration! :) )


	15. Hit and Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is targeting them, and it's ramping up to violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( You guys must hate my guts by now, I know you've been waiting so very patiently.. I'm trying really hard to finish all my fics, and hopefully I can accomplish this soon. Most of my fics are coming to a close, including this one. So, enjoy! )

It's a normal morning on their way to school, they've already dropped off Isaac, heading over to the high school. The radio is playing quietly, Stiles tapping his hands to the beat of the song. Derek had not been in a good mood lately, paranoid about the recent events. He was jumpier than usual, and just distant.

 

It was concerning, to say the least.

 

But today, he didn't seem to be much more than a little tired. He was offering small smiles to Stiles as he jammed out to the next song, having sunk back in his seat. Stiles remembers suddenly the trash from some takeout he had gotten a few nights ago, and digs under the seat to grab out the bag.

 

"Dude, see that dumpster?" He asks, and Derek nods, Stiles hands him the paper bag. "Can you throw that away?" He quickly gets out and hurries over to the dumpster to throw it in. When he hops back in, Stiles pulls away from the curb.

 

"Ever think that squirrels run in front of cars because they're trying to get paid? Maybe their squirrel law suits just don't go through." He's saying a few minutes later, Derek's face is split into an amused grin at his antics. "It's true! Those rodents are up to something!" He snorts, slaps a hand against the steering wheel.

 

"Stiles." Stiles shakes his head, peering down at the radio.

 

"I'm not lying, Derek. Those furry rodents are-" He's cut off when Derek shouts his name again, and he looks up to see a black SUV heading right for them in their lane. "Holy shi-" He jerks his steering wheel to the side and they collide partially with the SUV's headlight before driving straight off the road.

 

The Jeep goes rolling when they skid sideways, the entire world a blur of motion and the crunching of metal as they're flung about.

 

Then it all stops, and everything goes black.

 

"Stiles.." The voice is far away and distorted, like someone is speaking to him through a wall of thick molasses. "Stiles." A little louder, and he pries his eyes open, trying to figure out what was going on.

 

There's a tree hanging from the sky. No, wait. The ground and the sky switched places. He blinks, then blinks again, something wet drips into his eye and blurs his vision.

 

"Stiles, you all right?" He looks up, and finds Derek laying on the ceiling of the Jeep. No, the ground, they were upside down!

 

"Derek!" He yelps, and it all comes back to him. Derek's glasses are nowhere to be seen, his face is cut up and bleeding, and there's a dark crimson spot on his shoulder.

 

"Are you okay?" He repeats, and Stiles tries to assess himself, realizing that he's still buckled in. Son of a bitch, Derek never buckled back in after he threw the trash away.

 

"Am I okay? You're on the ceiling!" He snaps, reaching for his seatbelt.

 

"Don't move yet, I'll help." Derek pushes himself up, and Stiles makes a distressed noise.

 

"You could have a damaged spine or something, Derek just lay still." He demands, but Derek's already maneuvering closer, kneeling and trying to help Stiles.

 

"I'm okay, just a couple of scrapes." He tells Stiles, before grunting in frustration. "Your seatbelt is locked, what sort of seatbelt does that?" He mutters.

 

"I dunno but the blood is already rushing to my head." Stiles informs Derek, already uncomfortable from the sensation.

 

"Okay, I'll fix it... Gimme a second." He starts peering around, and then picks up a big chunk of sharp glass. He slips off his jacket, and Stiles can see a piece of glass sticking into his shoulder where the dark spot of blood is.

 

"You've got glass in your shoulder." He says quietly, and Derek peers to look at it, before looking back at Stiles. He looked just as handsome all cut up and upside down.

 

"You're bleeding from your cheek into your eye." He retorts, before wrapping his shirt around part of the glass to hold it with, and setting to work cutting at the seatbelt.

 

"Where's my phone? I need to call my dad." Stiles squirms in his seat, reaching into his pocket, and finding it not there.

 

"We'll find it when we get you out of there." Derek smacks his hand away from the seatbelt, continuing to cut at it. It had started to fray and rip apart under the pressure of the sharp glass. Once it's almost gone, Derek pulls one hand away and holds out his arm underneath Stiles and yanks. The belt breaks and Stiles drops with a scream, his fall barely being broken by Derek's arm.

 

"You okay?" Derek asks, already crawling out of the broken window, Stiles follows. He seems oddly calm, and Stiles can't quite find the mind to panic either. They just simply stare at the wrecked Jeep, and then Derek starts looking around for Stiles' phone. They make their way back up to the road slowly, searching the grass for Stiles' cell phone.

 

"That person on the road..." Stiles starts, and Derek nods.

 

"Must've been drunk or something." He shrugs.

 

"They were driving straight, straight at us." He says quietly, and Derek shifts a piece of the broken off bumper from the grass to look underneath it. "Do you think they did it on purpose?" He mutters.

 

"No." Derek sounds so nonchalant, so... Normal... More normal than Derek himself...

 

"You okay?" He asks, and Derek makes a soft noncommittal noise before adding another enthusiastic one that sounds like 'aha' as he leans down and grabs Stiles' phone from the ground. It's cracked, but it still comes on, and Stiles struggles to see the screen and find his father's number.

 

"Dad? Hey..." He says, and when his dad asks him what's wrong, he turns to look at the car. The adrenaline has faded in a way, into a more drained and sore feeling, he's sure to get hit by more pain as the rest of his energy depletes, but for now he's all right. "Someone just hit us off the road." He says.

 

-

 

After Stiles hangs up, he looks to Derek, who's using his foot to mess with some shrapnel, he's still without his glasses.

 

"Where are your glasses?" He asks, and Derek looks up at him, shrugs. "You're sure you're all right?" He asks, and Derek makes a soft noise before shutting his eyes. He sways slightly, like he might fall, and Stiles is getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

"Stiles.." He murmurs.

 

"Yeah?" He asks with trepidation.

 

"I can't feel my fingers." And then his knees buckle underneath him, Stiles catches him halfway with an alarmed shout. When the elder falls against his chest, he spots the problem, the glass in his shoulder had gone all the way through, and he was bleeding bad. Most of the back of his shirt was soaked, Stiles' adrenaline rushes back to him in an instant.

 

"Derek, stay awake..." He commands, starts taking off his shirt to press it against both sides of the wound. Derek's head is tilted against his shoulder, motionless. "Derek, don't you pass out on me now." He shakes him lightly, and Derek makes a soft noise. "You gotta stay awake." He holds him like that, careful of the glass in his shoulder. He cradles him close, combing a bloody hand through his hair, tears gathering in his eyes.

 

Where the hell was his dad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( A small present for you guys, you deserve so much more, but I'm really tired and hopefully I can write more tomorrow. Happy holidays! )


	16. The Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hospital will never be a good memory for the Hale boys, and now they're forced to face it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Once I'm on a roll, I'm on a roll! Hopefully I can get this going again and eventually finish it! )

Stiles only has a few cuts and scrapes, along with some serious whiplash, which _ow_. But he's not worried about that, every few seconds, it seems, he's asking the doctor attending to him about Derek. He sits on the table, tapping his fingers on his tattered jeans and wondering exactly Derek was.

 

The ambulance had arrived in a few minutes, and he'd ridden in with Derek. He hadn't shut up, asking so many questions, Derek was already so out of it. How much blood had he lost? How much blood was too much? Was he going to be all right? Why aren't you answering my damn questions?

 

Needless to say, the EMT's were agitated with him, and now he was stuck sitting behind a curtain on a bed and awaiting further notification. When the curtain pulls away, Stiles is ready to start demanding to see Derek, but he frowns when it's his father. His father, and Isaac.

 

"Good, you're okay." He's holding Isaac close, but he pulls Stiles over in a tight half hug with the other arm. "Isaac insisted on coming but he's terrified of the place." He sighs, and Stiles smiles gently.

 

"C'mere then." He takes the boy carefully, tries not to be too rough on his own injuries, and hitches him against his hip. Isaac ducks his face against his neck and clutches to him like a lifeline. "It's all right, you're safe." He assures, kissing his head softly.

 

"Where's papa, Stiles?" He asks quietly, squirms a little. "I wanna see him." He demands.

 

"You and me both, pal. They're working on him right now, he got pretty hurt in our wreck." He explains.

 

"Mommy got in a car wreck, is papa gonna die?" His head snaps away from Stiles' shoulder to look at him with wide blue eyes. "Please don't let him die, Stiles.." He hiccups, then buries his face against his neck, sobbing.

 

"It's okay, he's gonna be okay." It's the first solid statement he's given, and he hopes it isn't a lie. He doesn't want to look Isaac in the face and tell him that his father is dead and for the boy to hate him for his false hope.

 

"I talked to his doctor, and since he's emancipated they aren't asking for a parent.. But they won't tell me anything." John explains.

 

"I'm gonna fight someone, damn legalities." Stiles huffs, hitching Isaac farther up his side when he slips a little. They head over to the waiting room and sit down, Scott's already there with Melissa.

 

"They said they called his emergency contact, who's that?" Scott asks hesitantly, and Stiles freezes.

 

"I... I don't know." He mutters.

 

-

 

A few hours later, and all the doctor will tell them is that he's out of surgery. At first he's hesitant to let them see him, but then Isaac starts in on a nicely timed fit of tears about his papa. The guy folds in a second, and Stiles doesn't blame him. Soon, Isaac and Stiles are in the room. Stiles pulls up a seat and settles Isaac in his lap, observing Derek's prone form.

 

He's pale, hooked up to different wires with tubes running into his hands from his IV and his blood bag.

 

"Papa looked like this last time. His skin got all white, and he slept so much..." Isaac whispers, leant forward with his hands against the rail of the bed. He reaches out to hesitantly touch the man's arm. "He was cold, like this..." His voice shakes with emotion, and Stiles bites back tears of his own.

 

"But he made it, didn't he? He made it out, and he'll make it out of this one." He assures, and Isaac nods.

 

"Papa's so strong, he can beat anything... Even yucky old hospitals." Isaac turns his nose up and pulls a half-hearted laugh out of Stiles in doing so.

 

"That he is, that he is."

 

-

 

Stiles falls asleep with Isaac curled up against his chest, which can't be good for his whiplash. But he's glad he did it, because when Derek wakes up, he freaks. The heart monitor starts racing in time with Derek's heart, the beeping wakes up Stiles. Derek's already reaching for one of the wires on his chest when Stiles grabs his hand, he flinches and tries to pull away, Stiles lets him.

 

"Derek, Derek look at me." He whispers, there's a nurse moving into the room frantically. "Don't get any closer, you'll freak him out." She freezes in the doorway, hesitant.

 

"I didn't want to... She got me, I can't..." Derek's babbling, obviously distressed, Stiles tilts his head down to try and meet his eyes. They're wild and panicked, but they latch onto Stiles in only a moment's time. "S-Stiles?" He whispers, breathing heavily.

 

"Yeah, we got into a car wreck, Derek." He explains softly.

 

"Car wreck?" He frowns, eyebrows crinkling together in that cute way, but he looks so lost and confused Stiles can't really enjoy it. "I don't.. I don't remember." He mutters, sounding a little more helpless at the admission.

 

"You got hurt, Der." He says, and offers his hand out. "But you're gonna be okay." Derek grabs his hand gently, the heart monitor is still beeping a little too fast, but it's calming.

 

"Where's Isaac?" There it goes again, his head snaps up and he looks frantic as the heart monitor picks up again. The nurse is stepping in now, moving towards the bedside.

 

"Isaac's right here, Derek." He glares at the nurse, who glares back, fiddling with a needle. "Don't fucking do it, you're gonna freak him out." Derek notices the nurse, and promptly goes straight from slightly panicked to outright petrified. His hand clutches at Stiles' and he shifts away from the nurse.

 

"St-Stiles!" Stiles is glaring at the nurse in the meanwhile.

 

"He's an abuse victim, you cooperate with me or he's really gonna start freaking out." He explains quietly. He settles a hand around the back of Derek's neck, who flinches in the touch but settles when he realizes it's Stiles. "Derek, look at me." His eyes flicker away from the nurse and over to his boyfriend, Stiles smiles gently. "You need to ask questions, nurse pushy? What do you have to do, work with me." He doesn't break eye contact with Derek, who is content just looking at Stiles and observing the cuts on his face.

 

"Ask him if he's in pain." The nurse says, finally finding her patience.

 

"Derek, you in pain? Hurting any?" He questions softly, kneeling down next to the bed.

 

"Yeah, a little. Where's Isaac?" He turns his head a little, but Stiles catches his face and turns it back to him.

 

"In the chair behind me, asleep. I'm watching him, it's fine." He assures, Derek settles a little at the answer. "One to ten, how's the pain?" He pushes back to the subject at hand. Derek was almost like a distracted child, thinking up a question and just blurting it out, confused and a bit scared. But that was okay, because Stiles was there.

 

"I dunno, a two.. Did I hurt my shoulder?" He reaches for his injury and Stiles stops his hand with his own.

 

"Got some glass in it, lost a lot of blood. Lay back, Der." He complies easily, and Stiles sighs in relief. "Okay, now I'm not leaving your side, but you gotta let the nurse do what she does." He tells Derek, who nods warily.

 

The woman starts checking the wires attached to him, asks him a few questions which he's very shy in answering. Eventually, she seems satisfied, and asks Stiles to put his name and number on a piece of paper.

 

"Why?" He asks as she starts to walk away.

 

"Because we need someone to keep him under control, now we know who to call." She says with a nod, and he wants to cry from that. Because he would be kept in the loop then, he was the only person between the hospital staff and Derek. Derek was starting to fall asleep, he thinks the nurse upped his pain meds.

 

"Stiles?" Derek starts, looking at him with hazy eyes. "Where's Isaac?" He asks again, Stiles turns away and grabs the sleeping boy from the chair, settling him against Derek's side. Derek smiles down gently at him, wraps an arm around him, and his eyes close. Stiles smirks, sitting down. He was tired, sleeping in these chairs didn't do much, probably made him more tired.

 

But it was a good sacrifice, to make sure Derek and Isaac were okay. He settles back down, tilts his head against the back of the chair, and closes his eyes.

 

-

 

When he wakes up, there's a woman next to the bed, Stiles startles. She's on the other side of the gurney, sitting in a chair.

 

"Is he okay?" She asks, noticing him being awake.

 

"Uh, yeah... I'm sorry, who are you?" He questions, sitting up and wiping at his face before standing. He reaches over and touches Isaac's knee, just making sure he was still there. The boy was sound asleep, Derek as well.

 

"I'm Laura," That's when he notices that the chair, is not simply a chair, but a wheelchair. "His sister."

 

"Oh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Dun dun DUN! Laura's back, shit's about to get real! That's all for now, guys! Hope you enjoyed, leave comments below if you did! )

**Author's Note:**

> ( Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated! )


End file.
